Barstool Sessions
by The Dude Slayer
Summary: The tale of a bartender and the people he helps. Characters range from Neon Genesis Evangelion to Marvel Comics to Buffy the Vampire Slayer.
1. Kaji Complains

Barstool Sessions  
Kaji Complains  
  
  
  
  
A young man in his mid twenties entered a bar. He waved at a few   
of the patrons as he made his way behind the bar. His black leather   
duster flowed behind him as he walked.  
The man removed his duster and hung it up in a back room and   
returned to the bar. He wore a black Chinese silk shirt with a silver   
dragon stitched around the neck, down the back, and across his chest.   
The shirt was tucked into a pair of black slacks, which seemed to be   
pressed perfectly.  
The young man grabbed a towel and tossed it over his shoulder.   
The edges of it just barely ruffled his deep auburn hair. His hair lay   
down his back in a ponytail that reached past his shoulders.  
  
  
"REILLY!" A loud commanding voice demanded.  
The young man looked up at the voice. "Yeah? Oh hey boss. Am I   
late?" He looked at his watch, it read 7:00PM Tokyo-3 time. "Nope I'm   
on time."  
An older man with slightly graying hair and beard shook his head.   
"Ben. You're on time, but you missed that purple haired lady that   
keeps asking about you."  
Ben slammed his fist on the bar. "Damn. Again? That's the   
third time this week. What's she want with me anyway?"  
The older man shrugged. "No idea. But the next time you miss   
her I'm sending her to your apartment. Understand? I'm not running a   
dating service here, I'm running a bar."  
Ben mocked each word the older man said. "Hai, hai. I   
understand. I'll make sure to meet up with her, or you can send her   
there. If you feel like it." He smirked as he took up a place behind   
the bar. "She is kinda cute."  
The older man shook his head. "American kids." He refilled a   
man's mug with beer.  
  
The night passed like most nights at McLeary's Tokyo-3. Patrons   
came and went until closing time. At 2:00 each morning Ben was forced   
to close down and run off anyone still around. Though Ben didn't mind   
closing alone and running people off he did have a small problem with   
the one person each night that just would not get the clue and leave. For some reason every night there seemed one person that would   
just not leave. They usually sat at the bar and drank until they were   
in a stupor, and when Ben had to remove them they always seemed to have   
a story to tell him. And he would always listen and help as he could.  
  
Tonight would be no different.  
  
  
Ryouji Kaji. A Japanese man in his early to mid thirties with a   
constantly unshaven face. He would always been seen in a blue dress   
shirt, slacks, and a loose red tie. His flashy brown hair was pulled   
back into a messy ponytail that seemed to fit him.  
  
Kaji sat at the bar with a half empty bottle of Yebisu beer. Ben   
knew it to be at least the fifth one that Kaji'd had since he came in   
three hours ago. Kaji sat with his head in his hands, as he had most   
of the night.  
  
Ben sighed and walked upto Kaji. He tapped the man until he   
looked up. Ben grinned at him. "Gomen-nasi sir. But I have to clean   
up and well. You need to leave. You don't need to go home, but you   
can't stay here."  
Kaji smiled at the younger man's analogy to a pre-Second Impact   
song. "Good choice in words kid." He slugged back some of the beer   
and looked at Ben. "Hey kid. You ever been in love?"  
Ben sighed as he fell into a barstool near Kaji. "Hai, I have   
and not to long ago. I thought she was the one for me. But she seemed   
to be the one for one of my best friends."  
Kaji nodded. "I understand kid. I am in love right now.   
Beautiful woman, she's smarter than most people give her credit for,   
and though she doesn't act like it she's a wonderful person." He   
smirked and looked to the young bartender. "And great in bed." He   
laughed hoping to elicit a response from the younger man.  
Ben smiled. "I bet." He turned and looked to the double agent.   
"So sir. How may I be of service to you?"  
Kaji smiled inwardly at being called sir. "If you have some time   
I'd like to tell you a small story."  
Ben looked at his watch, it read 2:30 AM Tokyo-3 time. "Aw what   
the hell. Sure. If ya don't mind me cleaning up while I listen."  
Kaji waved him off. "Go right ahead. I'd hate for your boss to   
be upset with you because of me."  
  
Ben smiled as he walked around the bar cleaning the tables. He   
listened intently as Kaji told him about Misato. How he'd met her in   
college and fallen in love with her. As Ben began putting the chairs   
up Kaji told him of how he'd wanted to ask Misato to marry him, but   
he'd been too afraid.  
Ben nodded as he listened intently to the story. Kaji skipped   
over his job with NERV and how he attained it. He did mention how he   
reunited with Misato on the German Super-carrier. Kaji worked his way   
through the off and on relationship the two had shared since his   
arrival.  
Ben meanwhile worked on sweeping the floor and wiping down the   
bar. He nodded when needed and gave an "I understand" or "Uh-huh" when   
needed. Kaji's story took most of the usual two hours it took Ben to   
clean up.  
  
Kaji ended his story with an account earlier that night. He   
sighed and placed his head back in his hands. His beer had gone   
untouched, but Ben left it just incase. "So that brings me to tonight.   
It's over between us. I called her earlier and left her a message   
saying that if I ever saw her again that I'd tell her what I'd been too   
afraid to all those years ago. Now that I think back I should have   
gone over there and told her to her face."  
Ben placed his towel down. "What's going to happen tonight?"  
Kaji sighed. "I guess there's no harm in telling you. I'm going   
to die tonight. I know it. You don't be a spy this long and not know   
when someone out to kill you."  
Ben nodded. "Well look. I can't say I know you're gonna see   
tomorrow. I won't even try to say you will. All I can say is that if   
you survive this night, that you go see this Misato woman and you   
pledge your undying love to her.  
"You fall onto your knees, wrap your hands around hers, and beg   
her to be your wife. I can see how when you say her name that you love   
her. From the way you talk about her I can almost tell she loves you   
too." Ben picked his bar towel up and smiled as he threw it onto his   
shoulder.  
Kaji looked up at the young man. "You really think so?" Ben   
nodded. "Alright. I'll do it. Thank you." Kaji jumped up and shook   
  
Ben's hand rapidly. If Ben hadn't been on the other side of the bar   
Kaji might have hugged him. Kaji quickly regained his composure and   
smiled. "Thanks again. Well I've kept you long enough I'll be going."  
Ben grinned. "No problem. I do what I can to help. Hope things   
work out for you Kaji."  
Kaji nodded as he walked from the bar.  
  
  
Ben threw Kaji's beer bottle away when something struck him.   
"Misato. That's the name of the purple haired chick that's looking for   
me." His shock wore off. "Nah, couldn't be the same one."  
Ben tossed his dirty bar towel in a pile with other similar   
towels. He poured himself a small shot of tequila and held it up.   
"Here's to you Kaji." He downed the shot and slammed it on the bar.   
Ben shook his head before washing the glass out and replacing it in the   
pyramid of shot glasses kept behind the bar.  
Ben gave the bar a single quick once over to make sure everything   
was off and he was ready to close. He smiled and walked to the power   
switch and turned it off. He slid his black duster on and walked out   
of the bar as the neon sign reading McLeary's shimmered and went out.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
*Chibi Dude Slayer does official author's jig*  
TDS: *tosses CDS a cookie.* Thanks little dude.  
CDS: *grins and eats the cookie* Mo profholeb.  
TDS: *shakes head as a sweat drop appears* I can't count how many times I told him to chew than talk.  
  
*looks to camera* Hi all! Been a while since I did anything.   
But this kinda just struck me while I was doing homework one day. So I   
wrote it down and this is the final copy of it. What do you think?   
Well e-mail me and tell me.  
I'll be making others. The next in the series is Misato. Then Gendo. After that Ben will be moving on to LA for a new set of guests. Don't ask, cuz I'm not telling.  
CDS: Bastard won't even tell me!  
TDS: *throws a brick at Chibi Dude Slayer* Shut. Up.  
CDS: *gets hit by brick* *falls unconscious*  
TDS: Much better. Now where was I? Oh yeah. Anyway. This is mostly   
for my own enjoyment but I'd love if someone would tell me what they   
think anyway. So e-mail me.  
  
redrum124@bigfoot.com Go ahead I don't bite, much.  
  
So well I'm outta here. I know; you're probably expecting me to   
babble about the tragedy of September 11, 2001. Well I won't. It's   
not worth dwelling over, it was bad but it happens all the time. So   
all I will say is let's come together as a country and a world. Let's   
all work together and help place useful and intelligent people into   
seats of power.  
Like Strike Fiss. He's my vote.  
  
So anyway. I tire of this garbage. So let's just forget it and   
live our lives. Peace and happiness to all.  
  
  
Ja ne  
The Dude Slayer.  
  
PS: I don't own Kaji and Misato. Ginax does. I make no $$$$$$ off   
this. If I did, I'd be out playing pool now instead of writing. ^_^   
Nah, I love writing. I'd probably buy a Jolt or two though. Oh shit.   
I don't own Jolt either, Wet Planet Beverages does. Heheh. Peace out. 


	2. Misato Mourns

Barstool Sessions  
Misato Mourns  
  
  
  
  
The midday sun in Tokyo-3 was, as always, perfect. Light gleamed   
everywhere and off everything as it did almost everyday since the   
Second Impact. The day was just perfect for surfing, and that's where   
Ben had been. He'd spent the day enjoying the cold Pacific waves he'd   
never rode in his home town on Key West.  
  
  
Ben hurried into McLeary's carrying a large neon flower print   
wooden surfboard. He kicked the door open causing the few afternoon   
patrons to look at him. Ben inhaled and exhaled rapidly attempting to   
catch his breath.  
  
The old man looked at Ben and sighed. "What the hell did you do   
now? Is NEVR security on your ass again for trying to steal hardware?"  
Ben shook his head. "An. Angel. Angel coming. Hurry." He   
leaned against the wall.  
The old man glared at his young bartender. "Dammit Ben. Stop   
playing games, if there was an Angel attack there would be sirens going   
off."  
  
At that exact moment warning sirens began blaring. Everyone in   
the bar began scurrying for the nearest shelter.  
  
Ben regained his breath and glared at the other man. He stuck   
his tongue out. "Nay. Take that. Maybe one of these days you'll   
begin to trust me."  
The old man ran by Ben. "Shut up and RUN!!!"  
Ben turned and followed the crowd as they hurried to the shelter   
only a few blocks away.  
  
  
  
  
  
That evening Ben stood behind the bar. His usually tan skin was   
just a bit darker today from his time at the beach. He wore a red silk   
shirt that seemed to blend well with his skin tone. His duster was   
hung in the back as always.  
His oak brown hair, was a tad lighter due to the sun, was pulled   
back into a ponytail reaching down past his shoulders. And as always   
he carried a white dishtowel over his right shoulder.  
  
Everyone in the bar seemed a bit shook up, but as with every   
Angel attack that seemed to happen. As did the bar filling to   
capacity. Without fail whenever one seemed to attack this bar and   
others across the city seemed to fill up with people trying to hide   
from the loss of friends and family or businesses.  
Ben shook off his thoughts as he refilled another beer mug.   
Gently he tapped the keg under the bar; it sounded close to empty. The   
main taps had run empty hours ago, and the boss had moved to using kegs   
to supply the customers.  
Ben got up from behind the bar and walked out back to roll   
another keg in. Ben stood the new full keg up next to the other one.   
He watched as a pair of young women walked out laughing to each other.   
He shook his head and refilled another beer.  
  
A few hours passed and more people came and went. But somewhere   
around midnight the patrons stopped arriving. The only new patron   
after that was a buxom purple haired woman wearing a black dress and a   
red coat. She quietly made her way to an empty table.  
Ben waited until she waved him over before he approached her. He   
walked up and smiled to her. "Good evening pretty lady. How can this   
humble capitalist bartender help you?"  
The woman smiled at him. "Beer. Yebisu. Lots of it."  
Ben smiled. "How about I roll a keg out here for you?" He   
chuckled at his lame joke.  
The woman smiled joyfully. "Would you? I'd really appreciate   
it. That'd be great."  
Ben dropped his jaw. "You're joking right?"  
She shook her head. "Ne."  
Ben shrugged as he mentally calculated the price of the keg.   
"Let's see. That comes out to 8000 yen. But let's see, there is the   
contest. Nah. Look I'll cut you a deal. You finish the keg and I'll   
knock a thousand yen off, sound fair?  
The woman grinned happily. "Sure!"  
Ben was taken back by her sudden change in attitude. He turned   
and began walking back to the other kegs. He grabbed a full one and   
rolled it to the woman's table. He stood it up next to her and   
returned to the bar. He retrieved a mug and a pump, which he placed on   
her table. "Heh. I'll be back in an hour with paramedics or with the   
bill." He smiled and returned to his place behind the bar.  
  
Ben waited on the last twenty customers with little to no   
problem. He had to defuse one bar fight, but when the two fighters saw   
him reach for the katana strapped to his back they thought better of   
the fight. For the next half-hour Ben ran things like usual, chatting   
with customers, taking orders, mixing drinks, all his usual activities.   
But all the while he kept a close eye on the purple haired woman with   
the keg.  
As the half-hour came around he noticed the purple haired woman   
wave at him. Ben excused himself from the discussion going on at the   
bar. He wiped his hands on the towel and tossed it onto his shoulder   
as he approached the older woman. "Hai?"  
The purple haired beauty rapped her knuckles on the empty keg.   
"Would you be a dear and get me another?"  
Ben's eyes widened as he fell to the floor. "WHAT?!" He jumped   
back to his feet. "You mean you finished that whole thing by   
yourself?" The woman nodded happily. Ben nearly fell over again, he   
reached out and gripped the chair next to him to keep his balance.  
"Well? Will you get me another?" She batted her eyes and gave   
the most kawaii look she could muster.  
Ben nearly passed out as he nodded. "Let." He coughed to clear   
his throat. "Let me call my boss. We've never had this happen   
before." She nodded as Ben walked behind the bar to make the call.  
  
  
It didn't take long before Ben finally broke down and made the   
announcement. "LAST CALL!" Those fatal words that every bartender   
says. Soon enough the few remaining patrons paid their tabs and left   
or ordered another drink just to prevent being kicked out for a few   
minutes longer.  
It came as no surprise to Ben when the purple haired woman waved   
him over. He placed the towel and the shot glass he'd been cleaning on   
the bar top, and made the, what seemed, familiar trip. He nodded to   
her, "Last call what's it gonna be?"  
She grinned at him, showing very little of the drunken stupor Ben   
had been expecting to see. "Oh hun. Please would you make a pitcher   
of margaritas? Just for me." She flashed him one of the most   
beautiful smiles Ben had ever seen.  
Within seconds Ben was behind the bar again hunting down the   
necessary ingredients for his special Key Lime, Key West Ecstasy   
Margarita. It was a little drink he'd learned to make while growing up   
in Key West, which he'd brought to the McLeary's here in Tokyo-3.  
  
"(I Can't Get No) Satisfaction" by the Rolling Stones began   
playing over the loud speakers as Ben turned the blender off. He   
rimmed a chilled glass with rock salt and filled it with the lime green   
liquid. Taking a small sniff he sipped the liquid and smiled,   
"Perfect!" He filled a similar glass and carried it and the pitcher to   
the woman's table.  
He placed the pitcher on the table, and the glass before her.   
"Here you are milady. One perfecto Key Lime, Key West Ecstasy   
Margarita, just for the lady with the purple hair."  
"Misato," she whispered. "Call me Misato."  
Ben grinned as he bowed. "Very well Misato. Enjoy the drink. I   
need to write up your bill." He rubbed the back of his neck as he   
walked to the cash register.  
  
Closing time. As always Ben ran the few remaining people out of   
the bar. He only had to run off ten people this evening, not bad for a   
day with an angel attack. Ben pulled up a stool and began punching in   
numbers for the different drinks Misato had ordered during the night.   
It took nearly five minutes but the young bartender finally came up   
with a full bill to present to the Major.  
He printed off and whistled to himself. He looked around and   
noticed that they were the only ones left in the bar. "Miso-chan.   
Grab that pitcher and sit at the bar. I'm gonna clean up, alright?"  
Misato picked up the pitcher and glass and moved to the bar. She   
took up seat right in front of Ben and looked at the print out. "Wow.   
I owe that much? Hope you take credit cards."  
Ben smirked. "Don't feel bad. I've seen bigger bills."  
Misato grinned and returned to her drink.  
  
Ben began walking around the bar cleaning the tables and placing   
the chairs atop the tables. "So Major? What brings you to my little   
bar and keeps you at this time of night?" Ben wiped off another table.  
Misato looked at him slightly confused. "How did you know I was   
a Major?"  
Ben pointed to her jacket. "The bars. And I've seen you on the   
Internet. I've got a few friends in NERV that keep mentioning a   
gorgeous purple haired Major that can out drink anyone alive. When you   
ordered that first keg I knew who you were."  
Misato nodded. "So you've been watching me?" She gave the young   
bartender her sultriest look she could. She pushed her chest out a bit   
and pouted. "You know if you ever asked, I would have met with you."  
Ben shook his head as he picked up and flipped another chair.   
"Sorry Major. But I think Kaji would have a problem with that."  
Misato fell silent and turned back to her drink.  
  
Ben turned to Misato and noticed the look of defeat on her face.   
He shook his head and walked to her side. "Misato I'm sorry, I didn't   
know. He was here the other day. We talked and he told me he thought   
he was going to die that night.  
"He said he'd left you a message. I told him that if he survived   
the night that he should go find you and talk with you. He promised me   
that he would, and when I last saw him he was headed home."  
Misato brushed a tear from her eyes. "He's dead. I loved that   
bastard and he died on me." She slammed her fist down on the bar.   
"That bastard!"  
Ben nodded and stood next to Misato. He wrapped his arms around   
her as she cried. Her tears didn't just stop with Kaji.  
  
Misato cried over the multiple times she'd nearly lost Shinji and   
even Asuka. She cried over how her friendship with Ritsuko was   
damaged. She cried over the loss of her father during the Second   
Impact. Her tears flowed long and hard.  
Ben held her as she cried. His own tears began welling as he   
listened to her story. He felt compassion for her pain. Ben brushed a   
strand of purple hair from between her eyes.  
"Misato. You don't need to be driving. Why don't you give me   
your keys and I'll drive you home."  
Misato looked at the young bartender. "You're right." She   
reached into her jacket pocket and removed her keys. She placed they   
on the bar next to the register.  
Ben reached out and picked up the keys. "Miso-chan. Will you   
give me five minutes to clean up here, then I'll take you home."  
Misato reached out and grabbed the younger man. "NO! Please. I   
can't take being alone tonight. Let me stay with you please."  
Ben looked shocked. "Misato. I barely know you. I understand   
you're going through a lot of pain and all but this isn't the answer.   
I'm no replacement for your loss."  
Misato buried her head in Ben's hair. The tears began falling   
down her face once more. "Please. I can't be alone. Please stay with   
me." She was close to begging.  
Ben held her unable to argue with her. He nodded once. "Very   
well. Its obvious in your state that you couldn't take being alone.   
Alright, let me finish here and we'll get you sobered up."  
  
Ben took the five minutes he said it would to clean the bar,   
sweep the floors, and wash the glasses. He walked around back and   
grabbed his duster. He slung it over one shoulder as he walked Misato   
out to her car.  
The door closed behind the pair and auto locked as the sign   
outside shut off. Ben led the way to Misato's car.  
  
  
Misato slept soundly that night in the arms of a new friend. She   
knew that it would never last.  
Ben slept easy too. As he'd watched Misato sleep he saw what   
would become a strong friendship bloom. He never chased Misato's   
heart, knowing it belonged to Kaji. Though he would listen to her when   
she needed a friend.  
  
  
  
  
  
*Chibi Dude Slayer does official author's jig*  
  
TDS: Hello all. *yawn* Woke up way too early today. I'm a night owl,   
5:30 should not exist.  
CDS: I have nothing to say. Your own damn fault for having a Jolt then   
going to sleep.  
TDS: Shut up you little shit. Or I'll cut your Jolt supply. Now do   
you mind if I actually do an author's notes or do I have to tie   
you up again?  
CDS: *runs off to hide all rope in the house*  
TDS: Good. Now where was I? Oh yeah. Anyway, was up early. But I   
did this story today. Spent all day on it. That's not the kick,   
the kick is that I've never wrote three fics in one week. But I   
did this week. Well I gotta send out props to my pre-readers who   
keep me writing this stuff. Who until this morning I was   
beginning to think were the only ones that read my stuff.  
  
Guess how surprised I was when I found 12 reviews for "PS: This   
Is Asuka" on Fanfiction.net this morning. Anyway. This fic has   
no real inspiration or any real reasoning behind it. I just HAD   
to write it, don't ask me. I don't understand my brain.  
  
On a lighter note. Most of you are thinking that I wrote Ben   
taking Misato home because he's going to sleep with her. Well   
you hentais no he doesn't screw Misato. He does take her to bed   
with him, but sex is not in the cards. I just figured I'd   
mention that in case someone gets the stupid idea to MST this   
fic. HA! I'd like to see that. It'd prove SOMEONE reads this   
crap I write.  
  
CDS: Hey people read your stuff. But I'm betting most don't like it.  
TDS: *holds up handcuffs* Find me a chair and some duct tape. I'll   
take care of you.  
CDS: Eeep! *jumps and runs off in a cloud of dust*  
TDS: Well. While I take care of my chibi. HEY! PUT DOWN THAT WAL-  
MART SIGN! SHIT! Well come back for part 3: Gendo's Gripes.   
Chibi Dude Slayer. DAMMIT! Put that down.  
*ducks a flying object* Shit. Uh, anyway. I'm gonna go stop my   
chibi. Ulp. If I can survive.  
  
While I do that why don't you check out my website. Its not   
much, but its mine. I did it all by hand. Or HTML which ever   
you chose to say.  
  
http://the_dude_slayer.tripod.com  
  
  
  
Ja ne!  
  
No! Not the Mello Yellow cooler. AHHHH!!!! 


	3. Gendo Gripes

Barstool Sessions  
Gendo Gripes  
  
  
  
Ben yawned. For the nth time today he yawned. It wasn't that he   
was lacking sleep, it was he was lacking excitement. For the past few   
days the steady stream of customers he'd been used to seeing had   
diminished. And tonight that trend had reached its apex.  
Ben kicked the bar. "Four hours! Four hours left on my shift   
and no one. Not even a rat." He turned and began sorting the wall   
bottles. "Hell I'd even be willing to serve that uptight   
psychopathic..." he turned around to wipe off the bar and nearly fell   
over. "AH! Wha!"  
  
A man in his mid-forties, early fifties sat at the bar. His   
black hair and beard gave him a slightly ominous look. But his yellow   
glasses were what had caught Ben's eye. But the most obvious thing was   
the black uniform.  
Ben scanned the man as he too scanned Ben. Ben's eyes finally   
landed on the Supreme Commander bars on his shoulders. Ben swallowed   
the lump in his throat. "Ho...how can I help you?"  
The uniformed man glared behind his glasses. "Whiskey. Double   
shot."  
Ben looked at the man. "What kind? I've got..."  
"Scotch Whiskey." The man cut him off.  
"Scotch it is." Ben turned and filled a double shot glass with   
the requested liquid and placed it before the man in the uniform.  
The man in uniform placed his elbows on the bar and entwined his   
fingers together just under his nose. Though it looked slightly   
uncomfortable the man seemed relaxed as he sat there.  
Ben shrugged and took a seat on one of the stools he'd placed   
behind the bar. He turned on a small notebook computer and began   
typing rapidly.  
  
  
  
Ben wasn't sure how much time had passed before he heard the   
sound of a bottle being placed on the bar. He looked up and was   
shocked by what he'd seen. The man in the uniform had somehow   
retrieved the bottle of whiskey and hand now drained half of it.   
Though the shot glass sat in the exact same spot untouched.  
The man in the uniform looked at Ben and almost glared. "You   
look familiar. Do I know you?"  
Ben adjusted the collar of his navy blue silk dress shirt.   
"Uh...well. Sorta. You had me arrested and jailed for a week early   
last year."  
The man nodded. "Oh yeah. You were attempting to steal from   
NERV weren't you?"  
Ben scratched the back of his head. "Hahah! Who, me? No! I   
wouldn't do that. You'd have to be an idiot to try to steal from   
NERV." Ben laughed nerviously.  
Gendo nodded as he took another swing from the bottle. "You're   
right. No one is that stupid."  
Ben nodded; absently he runs his hand across the NERV issue   
laptop sitting before him. "Yeah. No one."  
  
  
  
Ben looked over at the intoxicated man before him. He'd finally   
removed the glasses, though it did little to ward off the evil that   
seemed to permeate from the man. His hands moved from entwined under   
his nose to relaxed palm down on the bar.   
The older man looked at Ben. "Son. Have you ever head of Second   
Impact? Of course you have. Who hasn't?"  
Ben almost glared at the other man. "Sir. Is there a point   
you're aiming at or do you just want another bottle of whiskey?"  
The man looked up quickly. "Yep. Gendo."  
Ben arched an eyebrow at the man. "Gendo is it? Alright Gendo.   
So tell me your story."  
  
  
  
Two bottles of sake, a pitcher of margaritas, and a few mugs of   
Yebisu later Ben looked at NERV's Supreme Commander. "So let me get   
this straight. Your organization Gerin,"  
"GERHIN." Gendo nearly yelled.  
Ben nodded. "Gomen. GERHIN, sent the Katsuragi expedition to   
Antarctica." Gendo nodded. "You then denied the truth behind Second   
Impact to save people?" Gendo nodded again. "Then during the original   
tests for the Evangelions you lost your wife, the Second Child's   
mother, and your mistress's mother all around the same time?"  
Gendo again nodded as Ben continued. "And you are attempting to   
instigate a Third Impact in a FUBAR attempt to be reunited with your   
wife?" Gendo nodded once more, this time taking a bit longer. "And to   
top it all off. The only link you really have to your wife you shun?   
What the FUCK kind of bastard asshole are you?!"  
Gendo had no response, he only looked to the bar and then to the   
bottles before him. The amount of shame seemed obvious. Gendo threw   
down more than enough money to cover the bill and stood up.  
  
Ben grabbed Gendo's arm and turned him to face him. "Ikari-san.   
I don't know you and I don't care to. But when this damn Angel war is   
over, you had best hope you're dead. Because if you're not, I will   
personally kill you. You've driven one of my friends to the brink of   
insanity by killing her lover. You killed far too many people and have   
gotten away with it.  
"And now you're trying to kill the world just to be with your   
wife. Buddy, after the shit you've done and the way you've treated her   
son. There's a better chance of Lucifer returning to Heaven with his   
wings attached and a full pardon." He released Gendo's arm. "Oh and   
one more thing. If I ever see you in this bar again, I will rip your   
intestinal track out and hang you with it. Am I understood."  
Uncharacteristically Gendo nodded, with a small hint of fear.   
Silent as he came in he walked out of the bar. His normally straight   
back and perfect posture were gone and replaced with a slight slouch.  
  
  
  
Ben had spent the next hour cleaning the bar. He took great care   
in sweeping the floors, washing the tables, cleaning the mirrors,   
washing the glasses, and wiping down the bar. Somehow it felt as if   
this would be the last time it would happen. He felt as if this would   
be the last time he would ever clean the McLeary's franchise tavern in   
Tokyo-3.  
Ben tossed the bar towel across his shoulder one last time and   
sighed. His eyes roamed the bar until they came across a small object   
lying atop the cash register. Ben had never seen it before and picked   
it up. In his hands lay a small, stylish sliver cross.  
He looked at the cross and something came to mind. It had been   
years since he'd been to a church, even longer since he'd prayed. But   
the urge came over him as he stood behind the bar that night.  
  
Ben fell to his knees holding that cross. "Our Father that art   
in Heaven, blessed be thy name. God it has been years since we last   
spoke. Hell I don't even know if you exist. But if you do I ask you   
guide and protect my friends and I as you send your warriors to this   
city. Please take care with Misato and the Children.  
"I regret I turned my back on you. If somehow I survive the   
coming Apocalypse I promise to come back to your flock." He bowed his   
head. "Amen." Ben stood and placed the cross and chain around his   
neck.  
He sighs once more and tosses the towel into the bucket of dirty   
towels. He looks at it once more before picking it up. He smiles and   
retrieves his duster giving the bar another once over.  
Ben's smile fades as he turns off the lights. The sign shut   
itself off as Ben closed the door allowing it to auto-lock behind him.   
He slides the duster on as he walks down the empty streets of Tokyo-3,   
knowing that life will never be the same after tonight.  
  
  
Three days later Kawrou-Tabris attacked. Shinji and Unit-01 fought back. Third Impact was painless. Ben never did carry out his threat to kill Gendo.  
  
  
  
  
  
*Chibi Dude Slayer does nothing*  
  
  
CDS: *looks confused* Huh?  
TDS: Third Impact stupid. We don't exist anymore.  
CDS: *tears forming* But I wanna dance!!!!  
TDS: *walks off from the chibi* Anyway. You all maybe wondering why I   
allowed Third Impact to take place. Well the truth is that my   
stories don't deviate the story lines, they just add to them. At   
no point did I ever think this would go past Third Impact.  
  
In fact when next you see our hero he'll be in New York City   
dealing with the owner of McLeary's, Dennis Leary himself. I   
don't know who's gonna show up in part 4 of the Barstool Sessions   
yet, but I've got a few ideas. I'd like to have the Scarlet   
Spider show up if he'll make time for me. If so look for my next   
fic in the Spider-man section of FF.net.  
  
CDS: Scarlet Spider died.  
TDS: SHUT UP! He's NOT DEAD! He's just....on hiatus. Yeah that's   
it. He's taking a break.  
CDS: Those psych courses sure aren't helping you any. You're in   
denial about what...  
TDS: *punts CDS 300 yards* SHUT UP!!!  
  
  
Anyway. On to important matters. I don't own Gendo, Shinji,   
Kawrou, or Unit-01. Ginax does. And I've forgotten to mention   
Dennis Leary really owns the name McLeary's not me. He mentions   
it during a rant on his "Lock and Load" album Pick it up. Good   
comedy, lotta laughs.  
  
Well I've continued a strange trend. 4 fics in a week. Dunno   
how long I'll keep this up, but I'll try.  
  
I'm pissing off a few RPGers so I'm gonna head out. Ja ne.  
  
  
Oh yeah. Stop by my website: http://the_dude_slayer.tripod.com 


	4. New City, New Helper

Barstool Sessions  
New City, New Helper  
  
  
  
  
  
  
New York City, the city that never sleeps. Thousands of people   
with hundreds of stories and just as many people willing to listen to   
them. But only one man willing to listen and help.  
  
Ben stood atop the Empire State Building looking over the city.   
In his two weeks that he'd been here since his transfer from Tokyo he'd   
settled into his job with McLeary's, gotten a nice studio apartment,   
made a few friends and caught up with a few old ones, and seen the city   
sights. Including the super heroes.  
Captain America and the Avengers, Spider-man, the X-Men, and the   
one that had become Ben's favorite hero the Scarlet Spider. Ben didn't   
know why but every time the Scarlet Spider found his way into a fight   
Ben seemed to be there. And he enjoyed every battle he saw.  
Ben looked out over the city and smiled. New York was his new   
home now. He pulled his obsidian duster closed against the chill fall   
air as he turned to leave the roof. A red spandex clad man stopped his   
exit.  
Ben jumped back slightly. "Scarlet Spider?"  
The super hero nodded. "You Reilly?"  
Ben nodded. "Sure am, how can I help you?"  
Scarlet crossed his muscular arms over the blue sweatshirt he   
wore over his spandex. "I need an ear, heard that you were the one to   
talk to."  
Ben adjusted his mirrored sunglasses and grinned. "Well sorry   
hero but I'm due at work in," he looked at his watch, "a few hours. So   
how about you come by McLeary's around two o'clock and I'll give you my   
full attention."  
The Scarlet Spider nodded. "Alright. I'll see you then." He   
turned and fired a web-line to a nearby building and swung off.  
Ben ran a hand through his long brown hair as he watched the hero   
swing off into the sunset.  
  
  
  
  
  
A few hours later Ben stood behind the bar with an older man.   
The other man was in his mid-forties; he stood somewhat around six-foot   
tall, he wore jeans, a T-shirt, and a leather jacket, and had a lit cigarette in his hand. "Okay. So you understand   
where everything is right?" He raised the cigarette to his mouth and   
inhaled, releasing the smoke through his nose.  
Ben nodded. "Yes sir Mr. Leary. I didn't run your Tokyo bar for   
two years without learning something."  
Denis nodded. "Alright Ben. Your last boss sent you here   
because he had a problem with how you reacted to one of the customers.   
I should fire you, but he also said it was the only time it's happened,   
so I'm going to trust you. Can I do that?"  
Ben nodded once more. "Yes sir. I'll run this place anyway you   
want me to."  
Denis slapped Ben on the back. "Good. Then have fun. I'll   
leave the place in your hands."  
Ben grinned as he picked up a bar towel. "Alright boss. I'll   
see you when the quarterly comes around then."  
Denis shook his head and walked off to greet customers as they   
entered the bar.  
  
It didn't take Ben long to fall into step. The New York bar was pretty much the same as the Tokyo bar. He was mixing drinks and filling beer mugs like he'd never moved.  
Denis made his way to the bar around midnight. He pounded on the   
bar a few times in an attempt to gain Ben's attention.  
Ben looked over his shoulder as he placed a new bottle of bourbon   
up with the other wall drinks. He turned and looked at his boss.   
"What's up boss man?"  
Denis smirked. "I like the way that sounds." He extinguished   
his cigarette. "I'm heading home. Think you can take care of closing   
things down here?"  
Ben picked up a shot glass and began wiping it down. "Sure.   
I've been closing bars since I was eighteen." He smiles. "I can take   
care of things, don't worry." He inspected the glass and placed it   
down with other glasses.  
"Alright. Then I'll see you tomorrow." Denis turned and exited   
the bar.  
Ben watched his boss leave just before someone waved to get his   
attention. He walked over and grabbed the mug and filled it up with the person's choice beer.  
  
  
  
Ben picked up the microphone attached to the PA system. He   
tapped it a few times to get the remaining customers' attention.   
"Alright everyone. The time has come. LAST CALL!!!" His deep voice   
reverberated and echoed off the walls of the expansive bar.  
Patrons the room over began paying the few waitresses and Ben   
what was owed on their tabs or ordered one last drink before being   
chased off. The few that had paid up front were finishing off their   
drinks and conversations before leaving and going back to their mundane   
and humdrum lives. Those were the one's that Ben pitied most, the   
one's he couldn't help or wouldn't ask for his help, but tonight he was   
waiting on his clandestine meeting with the scarlet colored super hero.  
  
  
  
  
Ben and the last waitress were closing down the bar as the last   
patron left. Ben sat at the register counting that night's income as   
the young woman walked upto him.  
She was a bit shorter than Ben, standing around 5'8". Her green   
and red hair was short and spiked atop her head, matching the lime   
green blouse and hot pink mini-skirt she wore. A single lit cigarette   
hung from the side of her purple painted lips as she walked upto the   
bar. "So new guy, how'd we do?" Her voice was pleasant and unlike her   
outfit.   
From what Ben had gained from her during the night she was a   
college student trying to get a degree in music, and working McLeary's   
was the best way for her to make some quick cash. She was pretty easy   
going and seemed pretty in control of things, making her and Ben a good   
team for this bar.  
  
Ben looked up as he sketched down another number. "Dunno yet   
Sheila. I'm only through the ones and fives." He flashed her a quick   
smirk as he returned to the register.  
Sheila smiled back at him. "Well Benji. I'm clocking out. You   
can handle things here right?"  
Ben shook his head. "For the last time. I may be new to New   
York, but I was living in Tokyo for three years. I know how to handle   
big cities. I'll be fine. Just clock out, I'll see you tomorrow."  
Sheila shrugged. "Alright. Then see ya tomorrow." She punched   
her time card and slid her arms into a red pleather coat before leaving   
the bar.  
Ben sketched down another number. He stood up and looked around   
for something non-alcoholic. He grinned devilishly when he found a 2   
liter bottle of Jolt Cola in the small refrigerator. He filled up a   
beer stein and picked up another stack of bills.  
  
  
  
  
Two o'clock came sooner than Ben had expected. That stein of   
Jolt had wired him enough that he'd cleaned and swept the bar twice.   
He'd even washed each of the glasses behind the bar once more. Finally   
he'd reserved himself to working on his laptop.  
No sound was heard when the super hero came it. Ben didn't even   
notice until a red gloved hand placed itself between his line of sight   
and the computer screen. "HEY!" Ben yelled as he looked up. "Oh, hi   
Scarlet. What's up?" He smiled happily as he closed the laptop.  
  
The Scarlet Spider looked at the young bartender and shook his   
head. "You said two o'clock. Well it's time. Are you willing to help   
me or am I going to walk?"  
Ben stopped smiling. "Well SS I'll do what I can, but the most I   
can really do is listen to your story and offer advice when where   
possible."  
Scarlet nodded. "That's all I really need. Can I get a drink,   
this will take a while."  
Ben nodded. "Sure what kind?"  
"Beer. Geniuses. Cold." Scarlet pulled his mask up just far   
enough that his mouth showed.  
Ben picked up a clean mug and filled it to the brim with the   
frothy liquid. He placed it before the super hero and waited for the   
story to come.  
  
  
The scarlet clad hero took a good hour and a half to spell out   
his whole story to the silk and leather clad bartender. Everything   
from the cloning vats, to being hunted by Kaine, to fighting for his   
life in Seattle with Kaine, to Scrier, Judas Traveler, and Ravencroft,   
to Aunt May's death (even though he didn't use her real name). He even   
went into his fights with the Jackal, Venom, and the new Doc Ock. His   
tail dragged on to his travels with the New Warriors, and how his best   
and only friend in all of New York was in a coma after having his brain   
sucked into Cyberspace.  
Scarlet didn't know why but being around Ben he just wanted to   
spill his life's story. Even though he didn't know the bartender he   
knew that this was a man with secrets and he knew how to hide others'   
secrets. Scarlet drained his beer and paid for it.  
  
Ben looked at the super hero. He brushed a lock of deep auburn   
hair from his eyes and sighed. "You want my opinion?" Scarlet nodded.   
Ben nodded back, "Alright. The best I can tell you is to make peace   
with Spider-man. I know you're gonna say you already have but we both   
know you haven't. Next I say you need to take this Doctor Octopus on   
face-to-face. Somehow, someway it will help get your friend back we   
both know that. And this Kaine guy, I can't help you with him. All I   
can do is keep an ear out and call the New Warriors is I hear anything   
about him."  
Scarlet looked up with a bit of confusion. "You would do that?"  
Ben nodded. "Sure. On one condition. I want to swing." He   
flashed the hero a sly grin.  
Scarlet looked at him worriedly. "What?"  
Ben chuckled. "Web swing. Like you and Spider-man do. I've   
always wanted to try it. So whata ya say, drop me off at my apartment   
and I'll keep an ear out for your buddy Kaine."  
Scarlet seemed to mull the thought over a bit. "You're sure   
about this? That's all it'll take?"  
Ben nodded happily. "Yep. I'm not a needy guy. I want to help   
people any way I can. But now and again there are just certain   
opportunities I can't pass up, and this is one of them."  
"Alright. Agreed. Get what you need and we'll leave."  
Ben grinned happily. "Sweet!" He pulled his duster on and   
checked to make sure that the katana strapped to his back was secure,   
which it was. He picked up his laptop and slid it into a special   
pocket in his coat and sealed it. "Alrighty. Let's fly."  
Scarlet led his new friend out of the bar and waited as Ben   
locked up. He picked the younger man up as he neared and held him   
close. A moment later he fired a web-line which carried the two across   
the rooftops towards ESU, and Ben's apartment.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
*Chibi Dude Slayer does extended author's jig*  
  
CDS: Gotta make up for last story. ^_^  
TDS: Shut up.  
CDS: *growls and runs off*  
TDS: *holds his head* Stupid chibi. Anyway. Hey all let me get this   
outta the way first. I don't own any of the characters named   
here, Marvel does. Only Ben and Sheila (who will show up again)   
are mine. Well Sheila is, I'm Ben. HI!!! ^_^  
  
Anywho! This story was just a bit more of me getting to meet one   
of my heroes rather than Ben really helping anyone. I was pissed   
with how Marvel dealt with the Scarlet Spider, so I fixed things.   
^_^ Things will pick up with the next story, I promise. I'll   
start in on relationship problems again.  
  
CDS: Like you know how to deal with those. You can't even hold one   
down for any length of time.  
TDS: *glares* Closet. Rats. Cheeze-whiz.  
CDS: *shuts up and cowers in the fetal position* Dark, dark, dark,   
dark, dark, darkdarkdarkdarkdarkdarkdarkdarkdarkdark....  
TDS: *looks confused* I didn't think I left him in there that long   
last time. Let's see. Locked him in on Friday let him   
out...*counts off fingers* Twelve days! Wait, that's bad. Oh   
well, he's not real anyway. ^_^  
  
Well all. I just want to say I kinda liked writing this one, not   
as much as I did Misato's story, but I doubt I'll top that one.   
Misato's just HOT! What a babe *pant*  
Anyway. In our next fic the great bartender will be meeting his   
first mutant. Oh, oh. Who would come all the way to NYC just to   
meet a lowly barkeep. Well read the next story to find out. Any   
fan of Marvel will be happy to see our next guest.  
  
  
I'm off to the happy land of increased knowledge we all call   
college so I'll catch you all later. Until next time True   
Believers. Ja Ne.  
  
  
CDS: darkdarkdarkdarkdarkdarkdarkdarkdarkdarkdarkdarkdarkdarkdark  
darkdarkdarkdarkdarkdarkdarkdarkdarkdarkdarkdarkdarkdarkdarkdark  
darkdarkdarkdarkdarkdarkdarkdarkdarkdarkdarkdarkdarkdarkdarkdarkdarkdark  
darkdarkdarkdarkdarkdarkdarkdark  
  
  
TDS: SHUT UP! The fic is over. Useless! *turns and walks off camera* 


	5. The Belle and the Gentleman

Barstool Sessions  
The Belle and the Gentleman  
  
  
  
  
  
"Yo Ben! Table five wants a pitcher of Miller, two martinis, one   
shaken, one stirred, and a bottle of vodka."  
Ben nodded to Sheila and got to work on the drink order. A few   
minutes later the drinks sat on a try waiting to be delivered.  
  
Denis stood off to the side of the bar watching his new bartender   
work. A small grin glided over his features. It had only been a few   
days since Ben had started working in New York but in that small amount   
of time he'd proved not only a valuable asset, but a nice attraction   
for the customers.  
In the small time he'd been working with the much younger man,   
Denis had come to see a bit of Brian Flanagan in the young bartender.   
Headstrong, ready to work, always up to giving the patrons a good drink   
and at times a good show.  
  
The bar was unusually crowded at this time of day. Denis had to   
call Ben in early to hold the overflow of people. Ben didn't mind. It   
was more cash in his pocket at the end of the week.  
Ben looked around at the full to capacity bar and sighed. Things   
would soon get unruly if something was not done soon, and Ben knew   
exactly what to do. He grabbed the microphone from behind the bar and   
jumped on top of the bar. With a quick smirk and a tap on the mic he   
had everyone's attention.  
  
Denis looked up at the bar to see his youngest bartender standing   
on it holding the "last call" mic. He winced as the man tapped the   
side of it. "Damn Ben. What are you doing," he mumbled to himself.  
  
"Good evening my fellow patrons of the great and all mighty   
Tavern del Leary, or as we call it McLeary's." The patrons either   
laughed to looked to the man with the mic. Ben continued. "I can see   
we're going to have a bit of a problem soon. So I'd like to say this   
now. I your poem speaking, problem solving, drink mixing bartender is   
humbly requesting that those of you that are plastered please leave.   
Anyone in a military uniform, please excuse yourselves. And anyone   
with a tab, please see Mr. Leary on the second floor. Thank you!"  
Ben jumped off the bar and replaced the mic behind the bar. It   
didn't take long for those mentioned to remove themselves from the bar   
and allow new patrons to arrive.  
  
  
Sheila stopped by the bar on her break. She noticed Ben sitting   
down trying to relax for a moment before someone volleyed him with more   
orders. Sheila smiled and made her way to sit in front of him.  
"Yo Benny." She waved to get his attention.  
Ben saw her and waved before adding a slice of lime to the Mojito   
he'd been mixing. He placed the drink before a Hispanic looking man in   
a business suit who thanked him and walked off to one of the nearby   
tables.  
Sheila sauntered over and placed herself right before Ben. She   
flashed him a wicked grin before propping her elbows up on the bar.   
"Hey sexy. Mind mixing this lady a drink?"  
Ben smirked. "Sure beautiful. And I know the perfect drink for   
you." He turned and began grabbing bottles as he went to work.  
  
Ben poured an ounce of white rum, a half ounce of Cointreay and   
sweet vermouth, and juice from a half orange into an ice filled shaker.   
Like the pro he was he shook the contents to perfection. He sliced the   
orange in half again and garnished a cocktail glass with the slice. He   
gave the shaker one last jerk before opening it and filling the   
cocktail glass with its contents.  
He placed the drink before his favorite waitress. She gave it a   
curious look before turning to the bartender. Ben smiled happily.   
"It's called a Petit Punch."  
Sheila glared at him. "And what's that supposed to mean?" She   
humphed as she stood up.  
Ben chuckled. "Nothing Shel. Nothin'." He reached out and   
patted her on the head. "Ya just a petit young lady that's all." Ben   
had intentionally slipped back into his natural Southern accent to   
grate on her nerves. "Juz trust me alright? Ya'll like it."  
Sheila glared at him once more before tasting the drink. She   
tried to keep a stern look on her face, but it became increasingly hard   
as she watched the smiling bartender.  
Ben smiled once more before turning his back on Sheila and   
continuing his work.  
  
  
  
  
Somewhere around 11 that evening a tall buxom woman with brown   
hair and skunk tail walked into the bar. She wore a pair of red flare   
legged dress pants, a green shirt that seemed to mold to her fit form,   
and a brown dress jacket with a pair of matching brown gloves.  
Her hair was puled back into a bun on the back of her head. She   
carried herself like a woman hurting inside. Her emerald eyes shown   
like those of a woman that had lived many lives, and died in just as   
many.  
  
Even from across the bar Ben could tell this woman was close to   
tears. Ben had the strange urge to walk to the woman and hold her as   
she cried her eyes out telling him all of her painful secrets. Ben   
waved Sheila over.  
Sheila walked up and smiled. "Yeah?"  
Ben pointed to the tall brunette. "Check on her. She just   
walked in and looks like she could use a hard drink."  
Sheila looked to the woman then back to Ben. "How can you do   
that? I never even noticed her walk in."  
Ben grinned. "I know everything that goes on in this bar. Part   
of being a bartender."  
Sheila glared before walking to the woman. A moment later she   
returned to Ben her glare gone. "Well you're right. She want's the   
hardest thing you can make."  
Ben nodded and got to work on mixing up the hardest, strongest,   
most potent drink he knew.  
  
Midnight. Like clockwork Ben grabbed up the mic and made the   
call. "Alrighty everyone. It is now officially the new day, and papa   
bartender says ya gotta either pay up or order another drink. Either   
way, LAST CALL!!!"  
Those not ready to leave made a last ditch attempt to get drunk   
by ordering one more drink. Ben always held a soft spot for those just   
wanting to forget their lives in that last bottle of beer. He'd seen   
it often enough and done it enough while he grew up in scenic Key West.  
  
Sheila slapped Ben lightly.  
Ben jerked out of his thoughts. "Yeah?"  
Sheila shook her head. "You're an idiot. A cute idiot, but an   
idiot." She placed her tray on the bar and handed Ben a piece of   
paper. "That woman you noticed earlier just ordered a few more drinks.   
I've never heard of any of these."  
Ben took the note and read it quickly. "Um. Shel. Would you   
ask her to come up here? I'll take care of her drink orders, alright?"  
Sheila looked a bit confused. "Alright." She walked off and   
went to talk to the duo-toned woman.  
Ben watched with a small smirk as Sheila talked with the woman.   
When he saw her look to the bar he flashed her a quick devilish grin   
before he turned and began mixing the drinks she'd requested.  
  
Sheila walked off to pick up a tip from a table and clear it off.  
The woman watched as she saw the waitress walk off. She brushed   
her suit off and with the grace of a jungle cat she walked upto the bar   
where the young bartender was placing a drink before an empty seat.  
  
Ben smiled at the woman as she sat down. He looked her over very   
quickly as he attempted to gain anything from her. He knew this would   
be his late night discussion partner tonight and he wanted to have a   
heads up on her.  
Ben gave her a slight bow. "Good evenin' milady." His deep   
voice was thick with his Southern accent.  
The woman smiled. "Good evenin' sir." She sat down gracefully.   
"Nice ta know this whole city ain't fulla Yanks."  
Ben chuckled. "Milady. Ah'm the furthest thing from a Yank.   
I'm almost not even an American."  
The woman looked confused. "Oh?"  
Ben nodded. "Key West. Furthest Southern point in the country."  
The woman looked a tad shocked. "Ya don' say. I'm from   
Mississippi."  
Ben smirked. "A swamp rat. Been a while since ah've seen any a   
ya'll."  
The lady smiled as she held her gloved hand out. "Name's Sabine.   
An you are good sir?"  
Ben took the woman's hand and raised it to his lips. He gently   
kissed the back of her palm. "Ah can be anyting ya wanna call me. But   
ah'm just Ben to mah friends."  
The woman blushed slightly as she giggled. "Well Ben. Ah must   
say, ya'll are quite the lady's man."  
Ben nodded as he reached out and began mixing a drink. "Jus' a   
bit a good ol' Southern hospitality." He flipped a bottle in mid-air   
and caught it top down pouring a clear liquid into a shaker. "Well   
milady. We shall talk ina bit. Must earn my keep ya know?"  
Sabine nodded. "Sure thang sugah."  
Ben grinned; it'd been far too long since he'd been called sugar.  
  
  
  
  
Sabine sat at the bar watching as Ben, Sheila, and the temp   
waitress cleaned up. The temp was quick to finish and get out,   
complaining about being late for a date. Ben and Sheila on the other   
hand took their time laughing, joking, and genuinely enjoying each   
other's company. Sabine sighed as she remembered doing such things   
with a scruffy Cajun not too long ago.  
  
Sheila leaned against the bar and looked at the auburn haired   
bartender. "So Benny boy. Ya gonna be able to handle the pretty lady   
over there, or are you gonna need a hand."  
Ben smirked. "Well there are a few things I could use a hand   
with, but your boyfriend might kill me if I suggested them."  
Sheila looked confused for a second before smacking Ben in the   
arm. "Pervert," she smiled as she walked into the back room.  
Ben placed the stack of bills back into the register and pulled   
another stack out. "The proper term is baka-hentai."  
Sheila pulled her red pleather jacket over her violet dress.   
"Freak. See you tomorrow?"  
Ben nodded. "I'll be here. Unless you're coming by my place   
sometime during the night." He smirked again.  
Sheila smiled as she walked out of the bar.  
"Oh Shel. One last thing."  
Sheila turned and looked at her friend. "Yeah?"  
"Its pronounced Phr34k."  
Sheila scowled as she walked out. "Computer nerd." Her voice   
was lost as she walked to the nearby subway station.  
  
  
Sabine looked to the young man behind the bar. "You and Sheila   
seem pretty close."  
Ben nodded. "Yeah. I guess. I'm kinda new to the big city an   
all. An Shel there was the first person I met. So I guess ya could   
say we're kinda close. Its just a friendship though, she's gotta   
steady boyfriend that she's happy with. Actually I helped her and him   
a while back. All's well with them."  
Sabine nodded. "Glad ta hear."  
Ben looked up as he closed the register. "Well. Ya waited like   
we agreed. So, whatcha wanna talk 'bout?"  
Sabine sipped her drink. "Well. I dunno if ya noticed or not,   
but ah've been here a few times. An ah've seen ya helpin' people with   
their problems. An..."  
Ben nodded his usual smile having returned. "An ya were hopin'   
I'd help ya." He nodded as he turned and began to fill a mug with   
Guinness beer. "Well ya'll be happy ta know that I will be helpin'   
ya." He sipped the beer and walked from behind the bar to take a seat   
by her side.  
Sabine watched as the bartender made his way to her side.  
"Well Sabine. If I'm gonna be helpin' ya. I wanna get one thing   
straightened out. I know ya name is Rouge. An ya an X-Man." He sips   
his beer watching the look of shock on her beautiful features. "Not   
hard ta tell who y'all are, ya don' wear masks."  
Rouge sighed. "Ya good Ben. Ain't met too many that know who ah   
am outta my uniform."  
Ben reached out and brushed a lock of white hair away from   
Rouge's green eyes. "Well pretty lady. Ya gotta problem an I'm here   
ta help ya."  
Rouge nodded. "Well it all begins way back when ah was a kid."  
  
  
  
  
As the night progressed Rouge told Ben all about herself.   
Starting with Cody and moving through her life with Mystique, she moved   
onto her life with the X-Men. It didn't take long for her to work her   
way into her relationship with Gambit.  
  
Ben nodded. "Wait. Remy. He's the Cajun, right?"  
Rouge nodded. "Yeah." Tears dotted the edges of her eyes.  
Ben pulled the towel off his shoulder and held it out to her.   
"Dry those pretty little eyes of yours."  
Rouge smiled and dabbed her eyes. "Thanks."  
Ben smiled. "Don' mention it."  
  
  
Rouge described her feelings towards Remy and how no matter what   
he did, no matter how he acted, and no matter what he was hiding she   
was in love with him.  
She told him of how all the times she'd hurt him it had hurt her.   
And how after each time she'd lock herself away and cry. She told him   
how he always seemed to bring out the best and worst in her.  
Rouge's story ended with her telling him how she could never   
touch Remy. How she could never kiss him. How there were so many   
things any other woman alive, and some dead, could give him that she   
would never be able to.  
  
Ben was almost brought to tears by her story. "So. There's no   
chance of you and Remy ever being intimate?" Ben's southern accent was   
gone and replaced by his more natural deep voice with a   
Southern/Japanese twang.  
Rouge dabbed at her eyes again. "No. Ah mean we've been at this   
thing for years now an it ain't got us anywhere. So earlier today ah   
asked him ta meet me at Henry's..."  
"The bar where you two began a relationship." Ben interrupted.  
Rouge nodded. "Yeah that's the one. Anyway. I had him meet me   
there. An he did. An we had a few beers like we always do. Nothin'   
unusual. But after a while ah remembered why ah asked 'im ta meet me."  
She sighed and began twirling the towel in her hands. "Ah told   
him that no matter how much ah loved 'im there was no chance we could   
be tagether. I cried like mad as ah told him that." The strain in her   
voice was too obvious. "But it was what happened next that hurt most.   
Remy didn't even yell at me. He jus nodded, lit a cigarette, wished me   
well, an walked off. Ah heard his Harley rev as he drove off."  
  
Ben swallowed the lump in his throat. "And ya haven't seen him   
since then, have ya?"  
Rouge shook her head. "No, an ah think he hates me now." The   
tears were flowing freely now.  
Ben, not caring for his own safety, leaned over and wrapped his   
arms around Rouge. She jerked away from him, but he held tight.  
After a moment of trying to break their contact Rouge naturally   
seemed to fall against Ben. She buried her face in his deep auburn   
ponytail, which was lying on his shoulder. Her tears fell from her   
eyes and into his hair soaking through all the way down to his black   
satin shirt and to his shoulder.  
Ben just held her as she cried.  
  
  
He didn't know how long he'd been at the bar. But when Ben   
looked around he was in the apartment above the bar. Next to him a   
warm body lay wrapped in his arms. Ben looked around and noticed that   
the both of them were clothed, and that Rouge had fall asleep using his   
duster like a blanket.  
Ben smiled as he looked down at the woman. "I wonder how many   
time Remy loaned her his coat for a blanket," he whispered to himself.  
Rouge mumbled an inaudible response.  
Ben smiled as he brushed a lock of white hair from between her   
closed emerald eyes. He leaned down and kissed the top of her head.   
"Sleep well great warrior. For I shall procure breakfast." Ben smiled   
as he made his way downstairs.  
  
  
  
  
  
A scruffy man with red on black eyes wearing a brown duster stood   
by the bar. He was holding a beer in one hand and a deck of playing   
cards in the other. He watched as the young bartender made his way   
downstairs.  
Ben yawned and stretched his arms over his head and behind him as   
he walked. He brought his arms down just in time to find a glowing   
orange ace of spades under his chin.  
A gruff Cajun voice said only one thing. "Ya feel lucky today   
mon ami?"  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
*Chibi Dude Slayer does official author's jig, with Jolt*  
  
TDS: Thanks little dude.  
CDS: *nods and runs off camera*  
TDS: Wow. I amazed myself with this one. Is it good or what? I   
liked it. Well it seems Ben is adept at making friends and   
enemies. So Remy's jealous eh? Well wait 'til I finish part 6   
and find out.  
  
CDS:Sar-chan's gonna be upset with you!  
TDS:Whata ya mean? Sara-chan LOOOOOVES Marvel's favorite Southern   
couple. You also know she was helping me as I wrote this. She   
also knew that I'd be writing it after the break up. So why in   
the gods' names would she be upset?  
CDS:Cuz ya slept with Rouge.  
TDS: *falls over* What?! *jump up screaming* I did not!!! Yes Ben   
and Rouge fell asleep together, but they didn't sleep together.   
Anyway. Sar-chan knows I'd never do anything to defile the great   
Southern Belle.  
CDS: Except take her to bed when she's emotionally disturbed.  
TDS: *growls* Do I have to pit cook you over Mt. St. Helen's again?   
Or are you going to shut your trap?  
CDS:You're the great all mighty god-like writer. It's upto you.  
TDS: *smiles evily*  
CDS: *pales* Oh oh.  
TDS: *cackles, and chases CDS around*  
CDS: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!! *runs like bat out of hell*  
TDS: *stops before the camera* Oh, before I forget. I don't own Rouge   
and Gambit, or the X-Men. Marvel and Stan Lee do. Great man   
Stan Lee, gotta love him. He gave us Marvel's greatest heroes.   
Anyway. I'm gonna kill Chibi Dude Slayer. So stay tuned until   
next time True Believers, where we'll find out just what happens   
when you mix a pissed Cajun, a tired Southern Belle, and a   
bartender with a hangover.  
  
Plus one little thing. Brian Flanagan is Tom Cruise's character   
in the popular movie "Cocktails" If ya want a better   
understanding of my series that movie should help a bit.  
  
  
Oh and don't forget to stop by my website   
http://the_dude_slayer.tripod.com/front.html to check out my   
other works. Or to get my e-mail address and drop me a line.  
  
Or e-mail me at redrum124@bigfoot.com  
  
Until next time True Believers.  
Ja ne. 


	6. Swamp Rats and Beach Bums

Barstool Sessions  
Swamp Rats and Beach Bums  
  
  
  
  
Ben yawned as he walked down the stairs of McLeary's. He   
couldn't remember much of what happened last night beyond work and   
having a few drinks with Rouge. He pulled his dark mirrored sunglasses   
off and slid them into the pocket of his shirt.  
Ben rubbed his ice blue eyes as he walked behind the bar to boil   
a pot of coffee, or find a bottle of Jolt. Just before he made it   
behind the bar a glowing card shaped object appeared under his chin.  
  
"Fell lucky mon ami?" A gruff Cajun voice asked.  
Ben looked around quickly. "Wha?" His ice blue eyes connected   
with a pair of red on black eyes. Ben took a step back. "Remy,   
welcome. Is there a reason you're breaking into my bar at," he looked   
at the clock on the wall above the door. "Seven in the morning."  
Remy smirked as the card in his hand stopped glowing. He placed   
the card in his inner coat pocket. "Jus hopin' ta talk with one of my   
favorite barkeeps."  
Ben glared as he continued on to the refrigerator and his Jolt.   
Ben pulled a half empty 2 liter bottle of Jolt Cola out and filled a   
glass. "Remy. Don't lie to me. I'm a Southern boy just like you."  
Remy shook his head. "No ya not meson. You a beach bum, ya   
always gonna be one. Don' try bein' somethin' ya not." Remy made his   
way to a barstool as he talked.  
Ben nodded. "Strong words coming from you."  
Remy glared. "An what's that suppose ta mean?"  
Ben sipped his drink, the overdose of caffeine to his sleeping   
system caused his body to force itself awake. Ben shook his head.   
"What I meant was something like that coming from a guy that has never   
been truthful to the ones whose life he at times holds in his hands and   
vice versa is laughable. You've never been truthful, and it makes me   
wonder if you ever could be."  
Remy looked slightly taken back. "But...how? I know you no be   
in town long enough ta know dis tings."  
Ben sighed and sipped his drink. "Look man. You're a thief, you   
always have been and always will be. Don't hide the fact. Its the   
only way you could have gotten in here."  
  
Ben stretched. "Now if you don't mind. I'm going to hit the   
head. I'll be back in a moment." He turned and began to head   
upstairs. "Help yourself to a drink." Not waiting for an answer he   
was walking upstairs.  
  
  
  
Rouge yawned as she slowly began waking up. She could vaguely   
make out the sound of voices downstairs. Her first thought was that   
Logan and Scott had gotten into another argument. She sat up slowly   
noticing the heavy object lying across her body. It held the familiar   
scent of tobacco and alcohol.  
Naturally Rouge concluded that she'd fallen asleep with one of   
Remy's dusters, again. But when she looked down the familiar brown   
leather she was expecting to see had been replaced by an obscure almost   
obsidian black leather. She pushed the coat off and watched as it fell   
open.  
As the coat fell open a number of small items fell out; one of   
which was Ben's wallet. Rouge naturally being curious picked up the   
small black leather wallet and opened it. Inside was a New York State   
driver's license saying its owner was Benjamin J. Reilly, 6 foot 2   
inches tall, 26, 200 pounds, brown hair, blue eyes, organ doaner, and a   
priest.  
Rouge had to chuckle as she looked at the picture of the man   
smiling sticking his tongue out on the license wearing the attire of   
the clergy she'd grown up in. Slowly she flipped through the pictures   
in the front of the wallet.  
  
First was of a blonde woman wearing a mortarboard, cloak, and   
holding a diploma. Next was a picture of the same woman in a purple   
dress with her hair pulled up, Ben was standing next to her in a black   
formal tuxedo, sans duster. Followed by a tall curly haired, tanned   
man in a black duster holding a battle axe back to back with Ben   
holding his katana. Rouge continued looking at the different pictures   
each one of someone different.  
The last picture was of Ben, the buxom blonde, a tall buxom black   
girl, a robust brunette man with curly hair, another blonde this one   
less built and more happy, a tall man that looked much like Ben, with less hair, and a tall thin black man with glasses and a scruffy goatee. Everyone in the picture was dressed for a day at the beach, and they   
all seemed to have the prefect tan that every beach-goer wishes they   
had. Surf boards stood in the sand behind Ben, his look alike, and the   
curly haired man.  
Rouge couldn't help herself. She pulled the picture out and read   
the back of it. It read simply:  
  
"Me, Lindsay, 'Keira, Vampboy, CB, "D", and Jerrod. My last day   
in Key West. I'll miss you guys.  
  
The Dude Slayer"  
  
Rouge recognized the names Vampboy and The Dude Slayer. While   
searching around on the Internet one day Kitty had run across a website   
dedicated to fanfiction, some of it related to her and the X-Men and   
some for the rest of the world's superheroes. And these were two of   
the writers she'd found. Rouge remembered the names because of the   
idiotic author's notes the pair would add to some of their writings.  
Rouge turned the picture over again and looked at the people on   
the front. She studied the way that everyone in it seemed to just hang   
on each other and draw enjoyment from the way they were together. She   
sighed as her train of thought was disturbed.  
  
Ben opened the door to the apartment. He noticed Rouge looking   
at something and moved closer. Silently he looked over her shoulder as   
he noticed the wallet in one hand and the picture of his friends in the   
other. He closed his eyes and growled to himself as he was hit by   
memories he attempted to push down.  
"Rouge." He said it calmly and just loud enough to get her   
attention. It was enough to cause her to jump and throw his wallet and   
picture into the air. Both of which he caught, without trying.  
Rouge turned and looked at him. "Uh. Ben. Um hi. Uh whata ya   
doin' here?"  
Ben sighed as he placed the picture back into is wallet. He   
looked up at her. "I just wanted to tell you that Gambit's down   
stairs. I don't know if you want to see him or not, so that's why I'm   
telling you now."  
Rouge nodded. "Thanks. Ah think ah'll stay up here for a little   
while. Ya think ya can get rid of 'im?"  
Ben nodded as he reached out and picked up his duster. He placed   
the wallet in the inner pocket. "Sure. That won't be too hard to do."   
He reached out and picked up a small dagger that had fallen onto the   
bed, with little thought he slid it into the folds of the coat knowing   
it would slide into its own slot on its own. With the ease of a   
professional Ben slid the coat on in a single motion.  
Rouge smiled slightly. "Thank ya."  
Ben nodded half-heartedly. "Don't mention it."  
  
  
  
Remy listened as Ben walked around upstairs. A few moments later   
when he returned wearing his duster Remy wasn't surprised. He looked   
the younger man over and nodded curtly. "Ben..."  
Ben help up a hand and cut him off. "Rems. I'm tired. I just   
woke up, I only got three hours of sleep, and I need a shower. If you   
don't mind can you come back to the bar this evening around close.   
I'll have all the time in the world for you then. But right now I'm   
too asleep to talk." To prove this point he placed his hand over his   
mouth as he yawned deeply.  
"Alright. Close it is." He downed the beer and tossed a few   
bills on the bar. "Jus one ting. I was wonderin'. Have ya seen a   
tall woman with red-brown hair an a skunk tail? She got da deepest   
green eyes ya ever seen."  
Ben shook his head and stifled another yawn. "Sorry man. If she   
shows up I'll let ya know. Any reason you're looking for her?"  
Remy looked at the door leading upstairs. "No. Jus hopin' ta   
talk with 'er. Oh well, I'll find ma chere later." Remy turned and   
walked out of the bar. A moment later his Harley could be heard   
peeling off down the street.  
  
Ben picked up the bills and placed them in the appropriate slots   
in the register. He could hear Rouge's foot steps as she made her way   
downstairs. He picked up his glass and took another sip.  
  
Rouge stood at the top of the stairs and listened as Remy talked   
to Ben about coming back that night. When she heard Remy's bike drive   
off she walked down the stairs to find Ben behind the bar. His usually   
happy and content demeanor had been replaced by one of pain and   
sadness.  
Silently she walked upto him and placed a hand on his shoulder.   
Ben turned to look her in the face; there was little joy in his   
features. "Ben is somthin' wrong?"  
"Yeah, but its not your problem. I don't want to burden anyone   
with my own problems." Ben reached into his pocket and placed his   
sunglasses over his eyes.  
Rouge reached out and took the eyewear from him. "Come on sugah.   
Don' be playin' games with lil' ol' me." She placed the shades on the   
bar. "I told ya'll my problems, ah think its only fair if ya'll do the   
same and trust someone with ya own hurtin'."  
Ben chuckled. "You're right Rouge. I've been running for far   
too long. It's finally time I got some of it off my chest." He picked   
up the glass and took a small sip of the bubbly black liquid. "Like I   
said last night, I'm from Key West. Its paradise in its own little   
way, and I love it for that."  
Rouge nodded as she listened to the young bartender.  
  
Ben grew up in Key West in a close knit group of friends.   
Everyone seemed to be willing to watch everyone else's back.   
And they all enjoyed their lives like that.  
High school was easy for the group; everyone made their   
way thorough. Afterwards Ben and his best friend Robbie   
procured jobs as bartenders, a common occupation on the island.   
The rest of the group chose going to college over spending time   
on the beach.  
CB, or Cari, and 'Keira went off for schooling in   
directing and acting. Derrick, or D, was off for an art   
degree. Lindsay moved on to the local police academy. Jerrod   
was unaccounted for.  
When Ben turned 23 he broke down and went to college for   
a degree in English. He aspired to be a writer. When he found   
out about an exchange program to Japan he jumped on the chance.   
Two weeks later he was in Tokyo, a week after that he was   
employed by McLeary's. Three years later he was settling into   
a new life in New York.  
  
  
Rouge looked Ben over and raised a brow. "Ya gonna tell   
me that ya'll just up and left what ya'll consider paradise   
jus' cuz ya got tha chance ta go ta Japan? I don' buy it.   
What really happened?"  
Ben looked up at the beautiful Southern woman. "You   
won't believe me when I tell you this."  
Rouge grinned. "Try me."  
Ben sighed and ran a hand through his deep brown hair.   
"Girls."  
Rouge looked confused. "Say again."  
"Girls alright. Too many to be exact. Key West is   
heaven, no place is better than it. The people are an   
experience among themselves. But I couldn't even walk through   
the alleys without being reminded of someone.  
"It just got to be too much. So when I found out about a   
student exchange program I jumped on it. I lucked out and was   
the last person accepted."  
Rouge nodded. "So ya just wanted away from ya memories?   
I can understand that, I understand better'n ya know."  
Ben looked up and smiled. "Hey. Enough depression. Let's get something to eat. I'm starving."  
  
  
  
  
  
Ben stood behind the bar mixing a drink, which at the   
moment he couldn't remember what it was. Ben had spent the   
afternoon with Rouge discussing their lives. A deep friendship   
had fast formed between the pair as the day had continued. By   
the time Ben went home to get ready for work they'd exchanged   
phone numbers and e-mail addresses.  
  
Sheila walked around the bar taking orders. She thanked   
Denis that he'd called someone in to help behind the bar. From   
the moment Ben had entered the bar earlier that evening she   
knew something was wrong.  
  
Denis looked at the bar. "Something's bothering that   
kid." He took a drag off his cigarette and snuffed it out on   
the railing as he looked down at the first floor. "I'll talk   
to him later."  
  
  
  
Remy parked his Harley outside McLeary's and killed the   
engine. Sloth-like he stood and pulled the keys out. Remy   
slid the keys into his pocket and made his way into the tavern.  
  
Ben filled a mug with some beer. Apathetically he placed   
it on a tray. He turned to work on the next order when he felt   
a hand rest on his shoulder he quickly spun around, to find   
Denis facing him.  
Denis took a step back. "Ben can we talk?" Denis waved   
at the other bartender. "Jimmy cover the bar for a few." The   
other man nodded as Denis led Ben into the back room.  
  
Ben leaned against the wall as Denis pulled a chair up   
and straddled it. "What'd ya need boss?"  
Denis looked Ben over a few times. "Is there something   
wrong? You've been working here a few months and this is the   
first time I've seen you down."  
Ben shook his head. His long ponytail landing on his   
shoulder. "It's nothing. Just thinking too much."  
Denis lit a cigarette and took a quick drag. "You sure?"  
Ben nodded. "Yeah. I'll be good. Can you tell Jimmy   
I'll be back out there in a minute?"  
"Sure. Just promise me something. If you have any   
problems you'll come to me about them. I don't want anything   
depressing my employees.  
Ben gave a half smirk. "Sure boss, sure."  
Denis nodded as he slid the chair away and stood up. He   
patted Ben on the shoulder as he walked out.  
  
  
Remy sat at the bar nursing a beer. He watched as Denis   
walked out of the back room puffing away at his cigarette.   
Remy sipped his beer and let his eyes roam over the crowd.  
  
  
  
Ben wiped off the last glass. Sheila, Remy, and Ben were   
the only one's left. Ben placed the glass behind the bar with   
all the others as he watched Sheila.  
Sheila clocked out and waved to Ben. "See ya later."  
Ben waved back. "Later Shel."  
Sheila looked at Remy. "You going to be able to handle   
him Benny?"  
Ben glared behind his mirror shades. "Shel. I can   
handle this guy. But I can't handle being called Benny."  
Sheila smirked. "I know. That's why I do it."  
Ben balled up a towel and threw it at her. "Go home."  
Sheila ducked under the towel and hurried for the door.   
"See you tomorrow?"  
"Nope. Got the day off."  
"Aww. This place just isn't the same when you're not   
working." Sheila pulled on her jacket and headed out the door.  
Ben picked up a towel and began wiping down the bar.   
"Tell me about it."  
  
Ben turned to the Cajun. "So Rems. What'd ya need this   
morning?" He threw the towel into a pile and poured himself a   
beer, before moving around to sit at the bar.  
Remy sipped his beer. "Ya see Rouge today mon ami?"  
Ben shook his head. "No. Haven't seen her since that   
little fiasco where the mutants lost their powers."  
Remy nodded. "Oui. Not a good day." He sipped his beer   
and looked at the mirror behind the bar. "She broke up wit me   
yesterday."  
Ben spit his beer out as if surprised. "What?! No!"  
"Oui. Jus outta de blue she says it all over. De whole   
ting. She says she loves Remy but she cannae be wit someone   
witout bein' able ta touch 'em. Why de fem not just rip Remy's   
heart out I dunno. Would be less painful."  
Ben nodded. "Yeah it would man. I'm sorry, I know how   
you felt about her."  
Remy nodded. "Remy never love no one de way he love   
Rouge. Not so sure I can again."  
"Don't give me that Rems. A good lookin' guy like you?   
I'm surprised women don't just throw themselves at you."  
Remy chuckled, which sounded more like he was whistling   
through his teeth. "Oui. Remy have plenty of women throwin'   
demselves at me, jus dey ain't de same as chere."  
Ben nodded and walked behind the bar. He took Remy's   
glass and refilled it. He took his own and filled it up with   
his usual Guinness.  
Remy took the beer and nodded his thanks.  
Ben returned the nod and held his glass up. "A toast."  
Remy looked at Ben like he'd lost his mind. "Whata ya   
talkin' 'bout meson?"  
Ben smirked. "A toast to Southern men and their hearts   
that were broken by beautiful women."  
Remy smirked and raised his glass. "To us." He touched   
glasses with Ben and downed his drink.  
Ben followed suit and he too drank happily.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
*Chibi Dude Slayer does official author's jig*  
  
TDS: Look all. I do have a reason for taking so long, and its   
not writer's block. Well not all of it. My computer   
went FUBAR on me earlier this week and I've been busy   
rebuilding my hard drive. Wanna talk about a hard job,   
you try finding some 300 mp3s and 5000 jpg files.  
CDS: Lazy ass  
TDS: Don't start on me. The last 2 weeks have been bad on me.   
This is not the way I saw this story going, but I liked   
it better this way. I didn't see Ben and Rouge being   
friends as much as I saw Ben and Gambit in a fight over   
Rouge. But this came to mind easier, so I wrote it.  
CDS: Plus he's had school work.  
TDS: Yeah, so no strange rants this time. I'm just not upto   
it this week. Maybe next time. Well, Ben's done in New   
York. His next destination will be LA, where he'll meet   
everyone's favorite vampire with a soul.  
CDS: Angel!!!! ^_^  
TDS: *kicks CDS* Yawn, man I'm not even in the mood to hurt   
you Chibs.  
CDS: You're not getting depressed again are you?  
TDS: I hope not. It took a lot for me to get over that last   
time. Let's not go through that again.  
  
People. To keep me from going into depression mode and   
writing bad stories review and e-mail me about this.   
Please.  
  
Send all e-mails to redrum124@bigfoot.com  
Or go to http://the_dude_slayer.tripod.com/front.html  
  
Well until next time.  
Ja ne. 


	7. Vampiric Brothers

Barstool Sessions  
A Vampire's Tale  
  
  
Ben sat in his apartment enjoying the day off. He'd slept in   
until 4 in the afternoon, played a round of EverQuest and Red Alert 2  
with his friends in Canada, and took another shot at jotting down him   
memoirs, which turned into another The Dude Slayer/Buffy fanfic.  
Ben loved his character and the responses his growing online   
fan-base was getting, but with all that he'd heard bar tending in the   
last few years he felt that the world needed to read it. So at every   
free moment he sat at his laptop and began work on his life story.  
  
Ben sighed and got up. He stretched causing his chest muscles to   
expand a bit. Ben wasn't overly muscular, but he had enough to show   
off. Ben's back flexed as he reached into the refrigerator to find the   
jar of Earl Grey tea he'd mad the other day.  
"Come on, where are you?" He pushed a half-empty carton of milk   
out of his way, reached around a Tupperware container with an undefined   
semi-liquid substance in it, and over a foil wrapped object, but he   
found his tea. Ben smiled and pulled the jar out.  
"Finally, caffeine." He poured a glass and replaced the tea.   
Smiling Ben made his way back to his computer, not noticing the ominous   
black figure standing in the hall leading to his bedroom.  
  
"You know, talking to yourself is a sign of insanity." The voice   
echoed from the hallway. It was male, and strong, but held a sign of   
compassion and friendship.  
  
Ben jumped nearly dropping his glass. "WHA?!" He looked around   
the room for the sign of the voice. He noted that the television and   
radio were both off, and his MP3 player was spouting a pirated copy of   
Pink Floyd's "The Wall". "Who's there?" By instinct Ben reached for   
his back, where his katana rested awaiting his use.  
  
A tall man, with a deep tan and curly hair stepped from the hall.   
His black duster lay still on his shoulders and back as he closed the   
distance between him and Ben. His black mirrored sunglasses, which   
resembled Ben's, did not reveal his eyes.  
The man carried himself with an air of power, authority, and   
danger. His black silk button shirt seemed to suck the light from   
around himself as he stopped walking.  
  
Ben relaxed and moved his hand from his katana. "Dammit Vampire!   
I should kill you for that."  
The man stood his ground and put his hands on his hips. "And I   
should kill you for running like you did. Do you know how long I've   
been looking for you?!" The man's voice was strained between anger and   
concern.  
Ben fell into the large black leather Laz-Y-Boy recliner. "Yeah,   
probably since I left the Keys." He sipped his tea and pointed to the   
matching recliner next to it. "Sit bro, you're family here."  
The man nodded and removed his duster. His large expansive chest   
seemed to be trying to free itself from the shirt that covered it.   
Slowly he sat in the chair.  
"Look bro, I'm sorry. You know how bad things were getting for   
me back home; I just couldn't take it anymore. I had to leave that or   
lose what mind I had left. You know me; I don't run from a fight   
unless it's the only option left."  
The man nodded, "Not the point though. You could have told me   
where you'd gone."  
Ben nodded. "Come to think of it, how did you find me? No one   
from the Conch knows I'm here."  
"Some lady named Sabine e-mailed me saying The Dude Slayer was in   
New York. Well you trained me well enough to not trust anyone   
immediately. So I mailed her back asking how she knew that and what   
your real name was. She said that she spent the night with you, and   
gave me your name, so I knew she was telling the truth."  
Ben shook his head. "Rouge. I'll get you for this." He looked   
to his friend. "So Robbie, what now? Come to drag me back to my   
problems and force me to deal with it all, or do I let you hole up here   
while I enjoy the spoils of my new job?"  
Robbie rubbed his smooth shaven chin. "Dunno dude. All kinda   
comes down to you telling me what you've been doing since you left."  
Ben ran a hand through his long auburn hair. "You would make me   
do this." He sighed and placed his feet on the coffee table. "Fine."  
  
Three hours was a long time to talk with an old friend. Even if   
those hours were just catching up on three years of lost friendships.   
Robbie told Ben about all the developments in Key West, how the bar   
usuals he'd used to serve were begging for him to come back, he'd lost   
his surf championship title to an old rival, and a girl kept showing up   
asking for him.  
Ben told Robbie about the people he'd met at McLeary's, in New   
York and Tokyo. He'd told him that Sabine was actually Rouge, of the   
X-Men, he was working on a book to be published by the end of the next   
year, and even in New York he'd found places to surf.  
  
The two friends would have continued talking if the phone hadn't   
interrupted them. Ben gave it a quizzical look.  
"That's strange. Only two people have this number, and I told   
them not to call me today unless it was important." Ben shrugged and   
picked up the receiver. "You've reached The Dude Slayer Story   
Archives. Representative Reilly speaking, where may I route you're   
call?"  
  
"Ben! Glad you're home. Its Denis, I need you to at the bar."  
"WHAT?! Come on Denis! This is my only day off in two months, I   
don't wanna come in today." Ben sounded close to whining.  
"I don't need you to work, Ben, I'm transferring you."  
"WHAT?!" Ben yelled into the phone. "Look if this is about me   
sleeping upstairs yesterday, I cleaned up the apartment."  
"No, its not that. Come on Ben, I need you to come into work   
today so we can talk about this. I'm seriously in a bind here."  
"Shit. Alright, I'll be there in a half hour." He slammed the   
phone down cursing. "Bastard!" Ben looked at his friend. "Sorry bro,   
headin' into work for a few."  
  
Robbie nodded. "No problem man, I wanna see what this place is   
you're working at."  
Ben nodded. "Gimme a minute to shower and change, then we'll   
head over." Without waiting for a reply Ben headed down the hall into   
the bathroom.  
Robbie shrugged as his friend walked off. When Ben was out of   
sight the vampire half-breed grinned devilishly and sat down next to   
the TV. "Lets see what DVDs you're hiding from me." He cackled as he   
began looking through the turntable of video discs.  
  
  
Ben grumbled as he entered McLeary's. "Look man, the damn thing   
happened over a month ago. How can you say you didn't hear about it?   
It's been on the news almost non-stop.  
Robbie closed the door behind him. "What can I say man. Its New   
York, I expected the towers to still be standing. I never heard of   
them getting blown up."  
Ben held his head in his hand. "Bro, I know those in Key West   
don't pay attention to the news too often. But this is ridiculous.   
The Twin Towers falling is our generation's Pearl Harbor."  
Robbie sighed. "Alright, so I feel like a heel. I'll try and   
keep up with the news from now on. Just back off."  
Ben glared at his friend. He turned around quickly. "Hey Shel!   
Get my buddy here a table in the back, will ya?!"  
  
Sheila walked upto Ben and Robbie. She smiled as she ran a hand   
down Robbie's chest. "Oh Benji. Where do you find these guys? Seems   
all your friends are built like brick walls."  
Ben walked off towards the staircase. "Only the dead ones."   
Quickly Ben made his way upstairs to where he knew Denis would be.  
  
Denis sat at one of the tables upstairs looking through a book of   
ledgers. A half-empty pack of cigarettes and three empty beer pitchers   
sat on the table. Denis took a long drag off the cigarette in his left   
hand and groaned.  
Ben made his way up the stairs. Once at the top he looked at his   
boss and sighed. Wearily he made his way over to the table and took   
the seat across from the older man.  
Ben took a quick look at the table. "Hard at work boss?"  
Denis jumped at the voice. "Ben! Why you!" Denis fell back   
into his chair and finished off his cigarette. "If you weren't so   
damned useful."  
Ben nodded. "So why'd you drag me in here on my day off?"  
"You're moving to LA."  
"WHAT?! No chance. I JUST moved to New York. I've just gotten   
settled in, the guys in Rochester FINALLY know where to deliver my   
Jolt. No way am I moving without a DAMNED good reason."  
Denis sighed. "I need you in LA. The head bartender over there   
just got shot in a gang war. He died early this morning."  
Ben shook his head. "Look Denis I'm sorry. Marco was a good   
guy. I met him during last year's inter-bar Christmas party. It's too   
bad he died that way, but still I'm not cut out for LA life. I'm from   
Key West, the most guns we ever see are the Coast Guard guys when they   
bust someone. I even don't think the cops have guns down there."  
  
"I'm sorry about this Ben, but I need you over there. I've got   
no one else able to take the job."  
Ben sighed. "What about Joey?" Ben looked down at the bar where   
a young man was pouring a shot of tequila.  
Denis looked at the younger man. "Come on Ben, be reasonable.   
Would you EVER give that boy his own bar?"  
"No. Come on man, LA's not my kinda town. Everyone out there's   
too uptight, too worried about stupid shit, and worst no one walks   
anywhere. If you don't have a car, then its public transportation."  
Denis glared at the young bartender. "Ben be serious. I need   
you out there by the weekend. Can you do that?"  
Ben lowered his head. "Its gonna cost you."  
"How much?"  
"I want to be set up in a three star hotel until I find a place   
of my own. Ten percent increase in my weekly pay, and three percent   
ownership in the franchise."  
Denis nearly fell from his chair. "WHAT?! You're joking right?"  
Ben shook his head. "Those are my conditions. Take it or leave   
it. Your decision."  
Denis stood up and slammed his hands onto the table. "Why don't   
I just fire you?!"  
Ben copied the action, hitting the table harder. "Go ahead. I   
can find another bar, but you'll have to find TWO bartenders." Ben sat   
down and propped his feet on the table. "I win either way."  
Denis wished he could slap that smug look off Ben's face, but he   
also knew the young man was right. Either way the boy would win, he'd   
either get what he wanted or he'd go back to Key West and find another   
bar. Denis fell back into the chair. "All right, you win."  
Ben stood up and shook his head. "No sir I don't. I'd rather   
stay here in New York. I've got a lot of friends still grieving over   
last month and I hate to leave them all so soon."  
Denis nodded. "I know, and I wish I could keep you here. But   
the best thing I can do is put you up in LA. I'm sorry."  
Ben nodded. "I'll start packing immediately." Ben turned and   
walked down the stairs to retrieve his friend.  
  
  
Robbie was sitting at a table with a pair of young ladies. They   
were sharing a pitcher of beer as they talked. Robbie stood up as Ben   
neared him. "Ladies, may I present my good buddy and the best   
bartender in this great metropolis: Ben Reilly." He turned back to the   
women and beer, "But enough about him. Now back to me," this caused   
the ladies to laugh.  
Ben didn't even recognize the young ladies as he walked up and   
grabbed the neck of his friend's coat. He turned and dragged his   
friend from the table.  
Robbie waved to the women. "Don't worry. The drinks are on me!"   
He yelled as his friend dragged him out of the tavern. Once outside   
Robbie turned to his friend and growled; his features changed slightly.   
His brow pushed out and drooped, his skin pulled taunt across his face,   
his eyes turned a deep shade of yellow, and a pair of small fangs   
pushed out in his mouth.  
Ben looked at his friend and raised a brow. "Dude, this may be   
New York, but even here people will notice a REAL vampire."  
Robbie looked at the stares he was getting from a few people and   
regained himself, he shook his head returning to his normal face.   
"Want to explain what that was all about in there?"  
Ben shook his head. "Come on, we're headed home. I need some   
help packing." Ben pushed his hands into his pockets and began walking   
towards his apartment.  
Robbie looked confused. "Packing? Why? What's going on?" He   
ran to catch upto his friend.  
  
  
  
  
Two days had passed before Ben had all of his possessions packed   
up and ready for transport to the opposing coast. Ben stood on his   
balcony overlooking Central Park and sighed. He couldn't count the   
times he'd woke up with a hangover just too look out at the cityscape   
and be reminded of how good life was.  
Ben rested his arms against the railing and sighed. The sun was   
just lowering itself behind the giant buildings that had made this city   
famous. His going away party had been last night, everyone Ben had   
helped or met had been there.  
  
Gambit and Rouge showed up together but seemed to avoid the other   
like the plague. The Scarlet Spider had arrived in his civilian   
attire, the pair of Bens had a good laugh as they found out they shared   
the same name. Mayor Guliani even paid the young bartender a visit.   
He informed the room that this great city of theirs was not only losing   
a model citizen, it was also losing the only man that had any clue how   
a whiskey sour should taste, which caused a great outburst of laughter.  
The party raged into the early hours of the morning. Guliani had   
left early saying he had to return to running the city. Rouge gave Ben   
a hug and told him thanks for his help before she left, without Gambit.   
Gambit and most of the other guests filed out after the sun had risen,   
leaving only Ben, Robbie, and the Scarlet Spider.  
  
Reilly stepped out onto the balcony next to Ben. He leaned   
against the railing and looked across the city. "Busy?"  
Ben looked at the super hero and shook his head. "No. Just   
thinking."  
"What about?"  
"People. When I came to New York I at least knew a few people.   
I was able to find what I needed due to some stable contacts I'd made   
while I was here." He sighed and looked at the cityscape. "Now I'm   
headed to a city where everyone is fake, and no one cares what happens   
to you. Some city of angels. I don't know anyone on that coast, let   
alone in LA."  
Reilly patted his young friend's shoulder. "I'd love to help,   
but the only people I know are in Seattle. And I don't think you want   
to deal with caffeine swilling punks."  
Ben chuckled. "If you'd said surfers I would have thought you   
meant my old friends from back home."  
Reilly smiled. "Look Ben, you're a good guy. You know how to   
talk to people. People open up to you. Do you think I tell just   
anybody who I am under my mask?" Ben shook his head. "Of course not,   
the only reason you know is because I trust you. Everybody that was at   
this party earlier trusts you, except the mayor. I don't know why he   
was here."  
Ben looked over to the superhero. "Denis contributed some big   
money to his campaign. Plus after last month's attack he showed up at   
the bar, and we spent part of the night drinking and talking."  
Reilly nodded. "So that's where he disappeared that night.   
Everybody wondered where he was that night."  
Ben turned to the near empty apartment and sighed. "Well looks   
like its time to finish packing. Wanna lend a hand, hero?"  
Reilly shook his head. "No can do. I need to head home, I've   
got a job to get back to."  
Ben nodded. "That's cool. I'll drop you a line when I get to   
the West Coast, alright?"  
Reilly nodded. "Sounds good."  
  
  
  
  
Ben sat in the hotel looking at the small television provided for   
him. He groaned as he looked at his watch. He still had close to   
three hours before he was due at the bar, but with how little he knew   
of the city Ben needed to leave an hour early to make sure he was on   
time.  
Boredom had set in, a dangerous thing for a man with an   
overactive imagination. Ben stood up and walked to his laptop sitting   
on the table by the balcony. He opened it and turned the power on.   
After a minute the Linux system password appeared asking him for his   
clearance. Like second nature Ben typed the code in.  
It only took a few minutes more before Ben was online and   
searching his favorite websites for any new fanfics. Ben quickly   
scanned said pages before giving up. He turned the laptop off and   
stood.  
  
Stretching Ben walked to the front door of the hotel room. He   
retrieved his bokken and duster before exiting the room and hotel. His   
destination was a nearby park for some simple kendo practice before   
work.  
  
  
  
Ben leaned against the bar as his new boss explained the bar to   
him. Ben had long since tuned the man out and was scanning the room.   
Somewhere in here was his company for the evening, and he wanted to   
find them before they found him. On the East Coast Ben could usually   
find who was going to share his after-hours company, but LA was a whole   
new world to him.  
Ben's new boss was in his late twenties, early thirties with   
badly bleached blonde hair. The man looked like a reject from a   
modeling company. Ben had asked what the man did for work outside the   
bar, and was told that his boss was a male model, but his agency was   
going through some financial problems and that was why he was working   
at McLeary's. Ben knew the man aspired to model, but was working here   
because no one would hire him.  
The waitresses all seemed to be snobbish and think that a talent   
scout was going to hire them at any moment. Ben had to laugh as he   
watched a young woman talking to a fat, balding man in a suit. He knew   
the man would be pitching the "I'm an executive producer at such and   
such studio, I'll see if I can get you a reading" line.  
  
"Are you listening to me," Ben's boss asked in a higher than   
normal voice.  
Ben looked at the guy and shook his head. "Actually, when they   
said I was working for you I stopped listening."  
The man glared. "I am your boss you will listen to me."  
Ben stood to his full height and straightened his back, causing   
his shirt to tighten across his chest and make him seem larger. "Look   
you fucking baka dumpkoff, I don't give a DAMN what your job is here.   
Mine is to serve people their drinks, not listen to you. I've been   
working in bars the majority of my life, and I've been hanging out in   
them since I could walk. Now, who here do you think has more   
experience?"  
The man gasped at Ben's outburst and took a few steps back. He   
stepped up to the larger man and poked him in the chest. "You will   
listen to me, or I'll fire you. Do you understand?!"  
Ben grabbed the man's finger. "Poke me again," he gently pulled   
the man's finger back causing his boss to go to his knees, "and I'll   
break your arm. Are we clear? Mr. Leary sent me here. I only do what   
he says, ask him yourself."  
  
Ben released the man and turned away. He picked up a shaker and   
filled it with ice. He picked up a bottle of lime juice, Tequilla, and   
Cointreau, and poured two ounces of each into the shaker. He picked up   
the shaker and hurriedly shook the contents.  
When sufficiently mixed Ben grabbed a Martini glass and rimmed it   
with rock salt. He cut a lime and placed a slice on the glass before   
filling it with the Waborita he just mixed. Ben smiled as he placed   
the drink down before a man and continued his work.  
  
  
The night flowed with no new incidents between Ben and his new   
boss. Ben proved to his boss, the waitresses, and the patrons that he   
had spent the majority of his life in bars. He easily kept up with six   
orders, mixed two drinks at the same time, and held conversations.  
Anybody that hadn't seen him doing it would never believe it.  
  
  
Ben's concentration held for the most of the night. That was   
until a figure in a black trenchcoat walked through the door. His   
spiky brown hair made him easy to spot in the crowd. Ben had seen the   
man enter, and at that moment nearly lost his grip on the pair of   
bourbon snifters he was carrying.  
Ben watched as the man walked to a table. The whole night the   
Key West bartender kept an eye on the ominous figure that had entered.  
  
  
The night progressed like everything in LA, quickly. No one   
seemed to slow down; even the drunks were on the move. By the time Ben   
ordered Last Call the earlier nights attendants had already made their   
way home, to the job, or off to another bar. One man though kept Ben   
on his toes though. He'd moved to the bar just moments before, but had   
said nothing.  
Ben moved over to the man. It took him a moment before he saw   
it, more though he felt it. The man was not just sad, but he was   
heartbroken. He wasn't here to drown his sorrows in alcohol like the   
bums and hack wannabes that had been here earlier, he was here to   
escape himself. Ben blinked a few times before reaching up to hold his   
head. He shook a few times and sighed.  
The man looked up at the bartender just as he shook his head.   
"Hey buddy, you alright?" He asked in an almost genuinely caring tone.  
Ben looked at the man. "Isn't that my line? I thought I was the   
bartender." He gave the man a small smile before leaning in closer.   
What's bugging you though? You're at the end of your rope it seems."  
The man looked up at the bartender. "Aren't you supposed to be   
working?"  
Ben looked over his shoulder and saw his boss standing there   
tapping his foot. Ben turned back to the ominous man and shrugged.   
"Stick around 'til close and we'll talk. You look like you need   
someone that will listen to you, vampire." Ben turned and walked past   
his boss to get someone's order filled.  
The man looked at the bartender with a shocked expression.  
  
  
Ben growled at the people that were attempting to close down the   
bar around him. Four waitresses picking up tips and drink glasses were   
also getting in each other's way. His boss stood behind him doing   
nothing. Ben finally got fed up with it. He picked up a baseball bat   
from behind the bar and slammed it onto the bar, causing a loud crash   
to resonate through the bar.  
Ben inhaled deeply. "Now that I have your attentions. I will   
close the bar. Everyone in here just clock out and get lost."   
  
Everyone gave the new bartender a mix of strange looks until he   
lifted the bat off his shoulder and into a swinging position. At that   
everyone just agreed to clock out and leave, including the boss.  
Ben grabbed his boss by his collar. "A minute of your time."  
His boss looked at Ben with a twinge of fear. "Y-y-yes?"  
Ben smirked at the older man. "One waitress. On nights I work,   
at closing time I want one waitress."  
The older man looked at his lackey with a confused look. "But   
that won't work. There'll be now way..."  
Ben swung the bat at the bar again. "I run a tight ship. One   
waitress at closing time. I don't care how many are scheduled to work,   
all but one better be gone by closing time. Am I understood?"  
The man nodded as he rushed from the room. Once he was gone Ben   
grabbed his head and slumped against the bar, letting the bat fall to   
the floor.  
After a minute Ben stood up and began picking up discarded   
glasses from the tables. He spent the next few minutes retrieving   
glasses, trays, plates, and any items left on the tables. "Paint it   
Black" blared through the jukebox as the lonely bartender took his time   
cleaning the mess in his bar.  
  
  
The man watched the bartender as he went through the motions of   
cleaning. He assumed had this been any other place or any other night   
he might be happy doing this. He watched as the man took the money for   
the bills off the tables and placed it all on a single tray he was   
carrying.  
Ben picked up the money covered tray and placed it on the bar   
away from the spiky haired man. He discarded it as he began washing   
the glasses in a nearby sink. "So," he asked with his back to the man.   
"What's grating on your mind?"  
The man looked over at the bartender. "It's a long story. Mind   
if I ask you something?"  
"Shoot." Ben held a glass up before placing it to dry. "Whatcah   
wanna know?"  
"How did you know that something was bothering me?"  
Ben turned to look at the other man. He pulled a towel off his   
shoulder and dried his hands. "I'm an empath. I feel what those   
around me feel."  
The man gave Ben a confused look. "Then wouldn't working in a   
bar be bad for you? I mean there are a lot of emotionally distraught   
people in bars."  
Ben shook his head. "Not as many as you think. Most people   
coming into a bar are usually depressed, and that's an emotion that is   
easy to block. But some people just ooze an emotion, like you. You   
were all kinds of worried, sad, and concerned. I almost passed out   
with how much sadness you were lamenting."  
The man tilted his head in a nod. "I understand. It happens   
when you find out your only love has died." The man had time to look   
up before a tall glass with a black-red liquid was placed before him.   
"What's this?"  
Ben looked at the man. "You're a vampire right?" The man   
nodded. "Then drink that, it won't kill you."  
"I...I don't drink blood anymore."  
"I gathered as much just looking at you. Its not blood, just   
taste it. It's a nice little concoction I came up with. My best   
friend is a dampiel, so I know how to treat vampires."  
The man looked surprised. "A dampiel? Is that possible?"  
Ben nodded. "Yep. His mother was changed while in labor with   
him. Gave him all your gifts, with none of the little pains."  
The man sniffed the drink. "I'd heard stories of a half-vampire   
but I never gave them much credit. Does he really kill vampires for   
fun?"  
Ben rolled his eyes. "He calls it an adrenaline rush, I call it   
a stupid waste of time. I mean that's the Slayer's job why is he   
wasting time with it?" Ben looked at the man, "So what do I call you?"  
The man took a small sip of the drink. "Angel."  
Ben held onto the bar to keep his balance. "Angel. As in   
Angelus? As in the Scourge of Europe? As in the guy that's boinking   
the Slayer? That Angel?" Ben was close to letting his jaw hit the   
floor is surprise.  
Angel nodded. "Yes, all except for the Slayer part. Buffy and I   
haven't been together in years." He looked up at the younger man.   
"How do you know about Buffy?"  
"Well I never knew what her name was before now. I only knew of   
her. I used to dabble in Wicca when I was younger. Kind of explains   
the empathy." Ben chuckled. "I heard from some sources of mine in   
England that there was a group of people devoted to destroying   
vampires, and they had some super weapon.  
"Never knew much beyond that, until my buddy decided to start his   
revenge against your kind. He ran into some chick that said she was   
the Slayer, if I hadn't been coming home from work at that moment I'd   
probably be in line for a new best friend. She was close to killing   
him, thought he was a full vamp I guess."  
  
Ben turned and finished washing the dishes as Angel processed the   
information he'd just been privy to. Ben finished the dishes and   
picked up a rag and a bucket of water. He poured a bit of Dawn in the   
bucket before heading to clean the tables.  
  
Angel sat at the bar drinking the strange mix that Ben had placed   
before him. It had a strange fruity taste, but with the viscosity of   
molasses. He wanted to know what it was so he could make it at the   
hotel.  
  
Ben spent the next few minutes with only the jukebox as company.   
He knew Angel was still around, and he knew Angel was waiting for him   
to start the conversation, which he would once able to give him his   
full attention.  
Ben wiped off the last table and walked to the jukebox. Knowing   
that Denis bought all these machines he also knew they were nothing but   
Rolling Stones songs, which was good but Ben was tired of it and pulled   
the box's plug. He crossed the tavern to where a radio sat under the   
bar.  
He pulled the radio out and plugged it in. Swiftly he removed a   
cassette, which he inserted into the player. Moments later Jimmy   
Buffett's "Remittance Man" was playing its calming tune.  
  
Angel looked to the man behind the bar. "Nice song choice."  
Ben smirked. "I know. It a way it's the song of my life."  
Angel nodded. "Same here. Being a vampire with a soul is kind   
of hard on a guy."  
Ben nodded. "So do tell. You've got a story, I assume I should   
hear it. I always do what I can to help."  
Angel smiled slightly. "Alright. Prepare to be sickened and   
amused."  
Ben grinned and opened a bottle of Geniuses. "Try me."  
  
And Angel did. He started with his family and how he was the   
black sheep. He eased into how Darla changed him, and how he killed   
his family and their friends. He Cliff Notesed the next few years   
until he arrived at Drusilla.  
  
Ben stopped him for a moment. "You're saying that you drove this   
girl to near insanity?" Angel nodded resolutely. "And she eventually   
was sent to a convent because of you?" Again Angel nodded. Ben looked   
the vampire over before relaxing back on his stool. "There's still   
more to come. Then do tell."  
Angel continued his story with the jump to Victorian England   
where they met up with William Wordsworth AKA William the Bloody. He   
explained how the quartet of vampires stayed a small coven, a family,   
even all the way to the point where Angelus attacked a band of gypsies.   
This even resulted in his soul and the ultimate curse.  
Angel moved quickly through how he turned away from other   
vampires, and how he became a legend and a recluse at the same time.   
He told Ben of Whistler and how he had helped bring Angel back to his   
humanity, by showing him the Slayer.  
Angel sped through his relationship with Buffy, how they started   
out enemies, then became acquaintances, to kissing friends, all the way   
to lovers.  
  
Ben again stopped the story. "Isn't the Slayer supposed to be   
your mortal enemy?"  
"Yes, and I know what you're going to say. I've heard it all   
before." Angel drained the drink Ben had given him. "Can I get   
another of these?"  
Ben stood and moved behind the bar to fix up the drink.   
"Actually I was going to say that was pretty ballsy of you. I don't   
think I could ever sleep with my mortal enemy." Ben stopped and closed   
his eyes for a moment. "Oh wait. Yes I did." He looked down at the   
ground. "She still hates me." He looked up with a malicious smile on   
his face. "Oh well."  
Angel looks at the young man suspiciously. "It wasn't exactly   
the best thing to do. I mean I did break the curse, but I still lost   
my soul because of it."  
Ben scratched his chin. "Good point." He placed the drink   
before the vampire. "Bottom's up."  
  
The pair touched glasses as Angel continued his tale.  
  
He told Ben of how Willow had returned his soul using the   
counterspell that Jenny Calendar had found. He continued on to how he   
spent the equivalent of over a hundred years in Hell. He explained how   
Buffy nursed him back to what resembled his former state of mind.  
Angel construed the Senior Prom and how even though he and Buffy   
were late they both knew it wasn't long before what they had would be   
gone. His tale continued to Faith attempting to turn him evil, and her   
deferment to the Mayor just before his ascension into a demon.  
He told of how he helped defeat the Mayor and how he left Buffy   
and Sunnydale behind. This caused Ben to shake his head in near   
disgust. Angel explained how he came to LA to get away from Buffy and   
to make amends for his deeds as Angelus.  
  
Ben sipped his beer. "So that's why you're in LA. To help   
people? That's kind of a screwed up idea. People here don't seem to   
want people meddling in their lives. But I guess having a hero might   
be what they need."  
"I know what you're getting at. And you're right. Most people   
here don't want people to intervene in their lives, but when they need   
it they don't mind when someone does."  
Ben chuckled as he looked at Angel.  
Angel raised a brow and looked at the young man. "What's so   
funny?"  
Ben stopped his laughing and caught his breath. "Gomen. I just   
had a vision of you sitting on a white horse with a white cowboy hat   
going 'Hi-ho Silver, away!'. It was just a bit hilarious."  
A gentle smile worked its way to Angel's stoic features as he   
thought of what Ben had brought up. The smile soon turned into a   
gentle laugh, which caused the younger man to laugh again.  
  
  
The gigglefest lasted a few minutes before the pair caught   
themselves and reigned their hilarity in. Angel took a deep breath.   
"Do you want me to continue?"  
Ben nodded. "Yeah. Only." He inhaled deeply. "Can you skip to   
the more recent. Its not that I don't mind the story, but the sun's   
going to be up in two hours and I bet you've got somewhere to be."  
Angel looked at the clock over the door and nodded. "Alright."   
He sipped the drink before him and began his tale again.  
  
He told of Glory, the demon god, and how she and Buffy had fought   
over Dawn. His tale concluded with Buffy's death and the call from   
Willow. A small red tear clouded in his eye, which he brushed away.   
"She's dead now. Always knew she'd die saving the world some how."  
Ben reached out and placed a comforting hand on the vampire's   
shoulder. He took in a deep breath before he began. "Angel. I know   
how you feel about her. She's the one that holds your heart in her   
hand.  
"She's the only one you'd give up your soul for. Believe me I've   
been in your position. It's hard, I know. And with your soul it will   
only seem to get harder, but I know that until you let go and tell her   
goodbye it will never go away. I say you go to Sunnydale tonight and   
tell her how you feel.  
"She may not be able to hear you. Her own soul maybe long gone.   
But on the strange chance, the near impossible likelihood that she can   
hear you, she has to know you still love her. Saying goodbye will put   
you at ease, and maybe it will do the same for her." Ben brushed a   
tear away from his eye. He knew if he said anymore that he would soon   
be crying.  
  
Angel looked up to the human. "You're right. I'll do it. As   
soon as the sun is down, I'll go."  
Ben smiled. "Good man. That's great."  
Angel returned the smile and stood up. "Thanks. I really needed   
that. Ben nodded. "You mind if I ask you something?"  
"Why not."  
Angel smirked. "How is it you know so much at your age?"  
Ben looked hurt. "How old do you think I am?"  
"At least twenty-five."  
Ben smiled. "I'm twenty-six. And if you really must know. I've   
lived in Key West up until three years ago. I've grown up in bars my   
whole life. You listen to enough people's problems, and with a bit of   
empathy, you have pretty much all the answers you'll ever need."  
Angel nodded. "Makes sense. Thanks again, I didn't know it   
before but I needed this."  
Ben grinned happily. "Not many people think they need help until   
after they've gotten it. Believe me, I know." He patted Angel's   
shoulder. "Go home, get some sleep, grab a snack, then hit the road."  
Angel smirked. "Thanks again." He turned causing the black   
duster he was wearing to flap like a cape as he made his way out to his   
Plymouth.  
Ben watched at the vampire departed, a gentle smile creeping   
across his features. "Don't be a stranger Angelus." Ben grabbed a mop   
and began cleaning the floors. "I can't help it, I just tell the   
truth. I'm an old truth teller." Ben sang as he finished his work.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
*Chibi Dude Slayer does official author's jig*  
  
TDS: Okay I am SO gonna get burned for that WTC comment on page 3. I   
can see it now. But really, I had to do it. Don't ask me why,   
the explanation behind it is WAY to complex to get into.  
Now as you noticed this chapter was much longer. Why, well I   
decided that Ben needed a going away party. That and a look into   
his off days was just TOTALLY in the works, why not just put it   
in this story. Good explanation and lead into how he gets   
transferred don't you think?  
CDS: The pre-readers are right. You're either the world's biggest   
idiot or a genius. The verdict is still out.  
TDS: I finally got over that depression kick, and you know what that   
means? Yep I'm PISSED OFF!!!! *grins evilly* MUWHAHAHAHAHAH!!!  
CDS: Oh shit. Hey, come on boss. Don't be that way, I'm sorry.   
Alright, I didn't mean to insult you. No please, not the box,   
not the box, NOOOOOOO!!!!!!!  
TDS: *grabs Chibi Dude Slayer and pushes him into a small two foot   
square box* Now, shut up and let me do my Author's notes.  
*straightens his duster and sunglasses* Now where was I? Oh   
yes. Had some fun writing this one. As you noticed I had a   
friend over at Ben's place on page 1. Well that was Vampboy   
mentioned in the last story who is in Meatspace my best friend.  
VB: HA! I kick ass!  
TDS: Dude, what are you doing here?  
VB: Someone was talking about me. Figured I could help out.  
TDS: *shakes head* Oy vey. Alright, keep an eye on Chibi will ya.  
VB:I would, but I can't take my eyes out. It hurts too much.  
TDS: You're an idiot. *turns back to camera* Well I wanted to   
mention that this takes place just after Angel returns to LA from   
his trip. I was originally going to set it for when Angel was   
leaving, but when I added that part about the WTC I just knew   
when the story was going to take place.  
Now the idiot that is Ben's boss in here is based on no one.   
He's just some idiot I came up with. Nothing in here reflects my   
opinions of the West Coast. I don't know anyone from out that   
way so I have no basis for comparison. I do have an ex-  
girlfriend that lived out there but using her for Ben's opinion   
is not a good basis.  
VB: Don't forget that you two are on bad terms. She's also the   
mortal enemy of Ben's that was mentioned.  
TDS: *glares at Vampboy* Do you want in the BOX too?! I'm pretty   
sure there's room for two in there.  
VB:*shrinks back* no.  
TDS: Didn't think so. Now where was I? Oh yeah. *pulls out a stack   
of bills* 5, 10, 40, 75, 200...*looks up* What?  
VB: I thought true writers didn't do product placement.  
TDS:*looks confused* I don't know what you mean?  
VB: Ahem let me quote: ' He poured a bit of Dawn in the bucket before   
heading to clean the tables' Unless you meant Dawn Summers   
you're getting paid for that plug.  
TDS:Bro, come on you know me. This is a fanfic. I don't own   
anything in here, nor do I make money off it. 300, 350... I   
don't know what you're talking about.  
VB: *glares* Maybe we should put you in the box.  
TDS: *jumps up knocking over table, sending piles of money flying*   
You wouldn't dare.  
VB: Good night folks. *Pulls down black screen*  
  
  
*crashes, bangs, items falling, screams, and other noises are   
heard*  
  
*Chibi Dude Slayer's box comes jumping out in front of the   
screen*  
  
CDS: Help. Someone. Please. Come on Dude Slayer, this is just   
wrong. Man..." 


	8. Questions Unanswered

Barstool Sessions  
Questions Unanswered  
  
  
  
  
  
Ben sat on the beach watching the waves as they crashed against   
the shore. He smiled as he watched the surfers riding waves he'd only   
seen on TV. Grabbing his long board Ben ran into the water to join his   
fellow aquatic humans.  
  
  
Ben made his way to the small apartment he'd been renting for the   
past month. Small wasn't the word, more like cramped. Ben never   
enjoyed coming back to the small set of three rooms he refused to call   
home. It always seemed to remind him of the fact that he had a slight   
case of claustrophobia, and the apartment always seemed to cause it to   
kick in.  
Ben looked around the small room as he leaned the long board down   
behind the sofa. Disturbing how little of his things he could fit in   
here. "Screw it. Rick can go fuck himself. I'm going out partying   
tonight." Ben grabbed his cell phone and called McLeary's.  
  
"McLeary's. Rick speaking." Rick's voice was soft and   
reassuring, as if he expected Denis to be calling the bar.  
Ben dropped his voice and answered. "Boss..." he slurred out.  
Rick sounded surprised. He'd asked Denis about Ben after his   
little incident with the baseball bat. Denis had told him Ben has a   
slight temper and to just agree with him. He knows what he's doing.   
"Ben. Are you alright?"  
Ben wished Rick could see him. "No. I'm..." Ben placed the   
phone down and made a sickly sound. He picked up the phone again.   
"I'm not gonna make it tonight. I know someone. He'll fill in for me   
for tonight."  
Rick almost yelled. "I'm not letting some friend of yours run   
this bar alone!"  
Ben coughed loudly and made it sound like he was hacking out a   
lung. "Trust me. He's good. He'll cover my shift. Watch him if you   
want."  
Rick almost felt sorry for the younger man. "Look. You have him   
come in and I'll talk to him. If I like him I'll let him cover your   
shift, if not I'll have Daniel do it."  
Ben nodded. "Al-alright." He closed the phone and looked around   
the apartment with a smirk. He reopened his phone and hit speed dial   
two. A moment later a familiar excited voice answered.  
  
"Vampire. Hey it's me. Need some help."  
Robbie could almost be seen scowling. "You're not in jail again,   
are you?"  
"Vampy. You wound me. I've been good about the jail sentences.   
I haven't been in lock up since that convenience store knock over.   
Which might I add I had nothing to do with? All I wanted was some   
peanut butter."  
Vampboy sighed. "You're right. So what's up?"  
"You're still here in LA right?"  
"Yeah. I'm leaving after the surf competition next week."  
"Sweet. I'll see you at the beach then. I was wondering if you   
wanted to make a few quick bucks."  
Vampboy wished he was on a video phone with his friend. "Nothing   
illegal I hope."  
"When have I ever done anything illegal." He thought for a   
moment. "Don't answer that."  
Robbie snapped his fingers. "Damn. I wish you hadn't said that.   
So how am I making some quick cash?"  
"I need you to fill in for me at the bar tonight." Ben picked up   
his red silk shirt with the silver dragon design and sniffed it. It   
was clean. He held the phone close to his ear as he slid the shirt on.  
Vampboy sighed. "Alright. But you owe me."  
Ben smiled as he finished buttoning the shirt. "Thanks bro. Hey   
remember. This is LA. People here won't understand the down south   
humor. So just take the order, make the drinks, and keep the   
conversations going. Oh and stay outta Rick's way. He's my boss."  
"Alright. Only because you asked so nicely."  
"Thanks again man. I'll see you this weekend then. It's Malibu   
Beach right?"  
"No. Dude. When you do this it makes me wonder how you survived   
this long on your own. The contest is at Santa Rosa. Get it right."  
Ben smirked. "I just know how to play the system. Later bro."   
He closed the phone again and picked up his lightweight leather duster.  
Before anyone called back, Ben tossed his cell phone on the sofa and   
ran from the apartment.  
  
  
  
Robbie looked himself over in the mirror. He'd run a comb   
through his curly hair to help it look somewhat decent. He   
straightened and tucked in his black T-shirt. His black Wrangler jeans   
hung off his legs a bit and were tucked into his black motorcycle   
boots.  
He pulled a pair of reflector sunglasses off the hotel's table as   
he walked to grab his trenchcoat. Giving himself one more look in the   
mirror he walked out of the hotel and into a life of booze, women, and   
music. "I love bars," Robbie thought as he made his way to McLeary's.  
  
  
  
Rick stood behind the bar quickly puffing away at a cigarette as   
he watched Ben's replacement work. He noticed something familiar about   
him and it wasn't his clothes. Rick actually considered what Robbie   
was wearing was a bit juvenile.  
Robbie stood behind the bar with a martini shaker. He shook the   
contents heartily a few times before opening it and tossing the   
contents into the air. Just at the last possible second the tall man   
picked up a martini glass and held it out. The flying alcohol landed   
in the glass without losing a drop.  
Robbie smiled as he placed the glass down before a tall blonde   
woman. The room exploded into a round of applause. Robbie bowed   
slightly holding his arms over his head as if he were attempting to   
silence the crowd. "Thank you, thank you. I'll be here all night."  
Rick watched the half-vampire as he worked, not sure of what it   
was that was so memorable about him. He puffed away at the cancer   
stick just waiting to see if he would do anything wrong.  
  
  
  
Angel sat in his car as a thin brunette woman walked upto him.   
He got out of the car and gave her a hug. He looked her over and   
smiled. "Welcome to the outside world, Faith."  
Faith smiled. "Thanks Angel." She climbed into the passenger   
side of the old Plymouth. She looked to her vampiric friend. "Can I   
ask you for a favor?"  
Angel started the car and drove out onto the highway. "Sure.   
What is it?"  
"Well there's two things. First, don't tell B that I got out.   
And the other is, can we hit a bar? I haven't had a drink in ages."  
Angel almost laughed. "Yeah I guess we can do that. I know just   
the place too. Got a friend that works downtown. You might like him."  
Faith smiled. "Just so long as he's normal. I'm tired of those   
crazies they had me in with."  
"Well he's a bit unusual, but he's normal enough."  
  
  
(TDS: Yeah I know Faith is still in jail. But I don't care.   
She's a character that needs some help. So for argument's sake she's   
on parole. ^_^ Now back to the story.)  
  
  
Robbie poured a beer and slid it down the bar with enough force   
that is stopped right before the man that requested it. He was talking   
with 'martini girl' as he made a frozen whiskey sour for a patron.   
With a dexterity only natural bar tenders have, Robbie chatted with the   
woman and mixed the whiskey and limeade. Robbie laughed deeply at a   
joke the woman made, and as if he even paid attention the dampiel   
poured the mixture into a chilled glass and handed it to the man down   
the bar.  
  
Rick kept an eye on Robbie the whole time from different parts of   
the bar. Like a hawk watching a field mouse Rick was never in a place   
where he couldn't see Robbie.  
  
Robbie watched as a group of Goths walk into the bar. Before   
even one of them came to the bar he was grabbing at ingredients for two   
different drinks. A man dressed in tight black jeans, a knitted black   
shirt, and a black biker jacket walked upto the bar. His black   
lipstick and fingernail polish mixed horribly with his pale complexion.  
The Goth looked at Robbie, who dressed much like him was not the   
slightest bit Gothic, and ordered a pitcher of Sangria.  
Robbie smirked at the drink. "Sangria? You sure?" The man   
nodded. "Alright," Robbie turned and began grabbing bottles.  
  
Robbie poured a half-cup of sugar, lemon and orange juice in with   
a quarter cup of brandy, three and a quarter cups of Chianti, a bottle   
of club soda, a cup of lemons and a tray of ice into a pitcher.   
Quickly mixing it he placed it on a tray along with enough glasses for   
his group. "Here ya go."  
The vampire wannabe took the tray and was headed for his group   
when Robbie grabbed his arm. "Hey kid. Can I ask you something?"  
The Goth looked at him. "Yeah? What is it?"  
"You a vampire, or just a Goth?"  
The Goth smirked at him. "Vampire, why? Got a problem with it?"  
Robbie grinned at the Goth. His brow drooped, his eyes turned a   
yellow-green, and his fangs slid down from his upper jaw. "Kid. You   
are way off. I AM a vampire. You. You're an idiot. Get over this   
dream of yours, cuz no self-respecting vampire dresses like that."   
Robbie's features returned to normal as he released the man. "Enjoy   
your drinks," he smiled and returned to the other customers.  
  
Rick glared at Robbie as he talked to the guy. Luckily he missed   
Robbie's little transformation. Rick leaned against the end of the bar   
listening to a few of the customers and watching the temporary   
bartender.  
  
  
Angel pulled the car to a stop in front of McLeary's. Faith   
jumped out of the car and was headed inside. Angel was close behind   
her.  
  
  
Robbie watched as the bar began to slowly empty. It was close to   
midnight and the bar was only at half capacity. Mixing drinks, talking   
to customers, keeping Rick off his back had all pretty much drained   
him. It had been too long since he'd been tending a bar, and wondered   
how Ben could do this everyday for months without a day off. He   
finally gave up and assumed it was his friend's nonchalant attitude.  
Robbie picked up a bottle of bourbon and poured a shot. He slid   
it down the bar stopping it at the corner. An average looking man in a   
business suit picked up the shot and downed it.  
  
Angel and Faith made their way to the bar. Occupying the last   
two seats at the bar Angel waved Robbie over. Immediately he knew the   
man behind the bar was not the same bartender he had been expecting.  
  
Robbie placed a bottle of beer before a patron and made his way   
to the pair of new comers. As he neared something struck him as   
familiar. Then he saw Angel's face. "The souled one," Robbie nearly   
yelled.  
Faith jumped up. "The dampiel!"  
Robbie looked at the woman that had jumped to her feet. "Shit.   
The Slayer."  
Angel pushed Faith onto the stool next to him. "Calm down both   
of you." Angel turned to the bartender. "Look we don't want any   
trouble. All we need are a couple of drinks."  
Faith slumped against the bar. "Corona Extra and a bowl of   
limes. Key limes if ya got 'em."  
Slowly Robbie backed away from the pair. He picked up a lime he   
found in the refrigerator and a knife and proceeded to slice the fruit.   
He placed the slices into a bowl and grabbed a bottle of Corona Extra,   
both of which he placed before the young brunette woman.  
Faith took the beer and drained a bit. "Been a while dampiel."  
Robbie looked at Faith. "Yeah, it has. Didn't expect to see you   
again after you bailed outta the Keys."  
Faith shrugged. "Things got kinda hot. Had ta bail."  
Angle looked between the pair as he noticed the interaction   
between the Slayer and the dampiel. "Pardon me. Um, I was just   
wondering. Where's Ben?"  
Robbie looked at the vampire. "Reilly? He's at home, or a   
party. He called me in and asked me to cover for him tonight. He'll   
be back tomorrow, its his style."  
  
At that moment across town Ben stood against the railing of a   
club talking to a woman. Loud rock music blared in the background as   
he chatted and laughed with the woman. Ben's right eyebrow twitched   
slightly causing him to frown. 'Robbie's talking about me again, I   
know it,' Ben thought.  
  
Angel nodded. "So you're the dampiel he talked about? Until now   
I didn't think you existed."  
Robbie looked at Rick who was making his way towards the bar.   
"Hey. Look. The boss doesn't like me, so how about after closing we   
all go out and talk. I wouldn't mind catching up with you Faith."  
Angel and Faith exchanged a look before Angel nodded. "Sure.   
We'll wait."  
"Thanks guys." Robbie grabbed an empty glass and placed it in   
with other to be cleaned. He walked over to a pair of young looking   
Latinos and made up their drink orders.  
  
  
  
Robbie called Rick over around midnight. The tall blonde man   
came over and looked at the larger man. "Yeah?"  
"Just wondering when you wanted last call. Ben told me he   
usually begins closing up around midnight. Sound good to you?"  
Rick looked at his watch. "Yeah I think that'll work. That   
gives you about five minutes to work. After everyone's gone you can   
leave, alright?"  
Robbie shook his head. "Sorry man, no go. I don't leave until a   
bar is spotless. Key West rule, if ya can't see the floor sparkle your   
job ain't done. Plus I kinda need to be paid."  
Rick ran a hand through his hair. "That explains why Reilly   
doesn't clock out until two each morning." He looked to Robbie.   
"Alright, give the last call."  
Robbie nodded as he picked up the microphone. Gently he tapped   
the device. "HOWDY! YA'LL! Bad news peps. Its that time of the night   
when all the beach bums say goodnight to their waves, all you whores   
give up for the night, and all the producers stop hitting on the   
waitresses.  
"That's right. Its Last Call, so place your last drink order and   
pay your tabs." Robbie turned the mic off and went about collecting   
tabs, glasses and bottles, and mixing drinks for a few people.  
  
Angel and Faith watched as the half-breed insouciantly did the   
work of three people. Fatigue never seemed to show in the dampiel as   
he ran through the motions of the job. Angel noticed that this was   
more than second nature, it seemed like the dampiel was doing this   
without thought; almost as if it were a bodily function.  
Faith noticed how Robbie's shirt conformed to his muscular chest,   
and that even though his pants were loose she could still see a bulge   
near the front. As she mulled this thought over she noticed that the   
man's body language had changed, she looked up and noticed he was   
smiling at her.  
  
Robbie smiled at Faith as he poured a double shot of whiskey. He   
looked away and placed the drink before someone. As he walked away   
from the people he'd spend time with later he gave his lower body a   
slight shake.  
  
  
  
Rick stood at the end of the bar watching Robbie when his cell   
phone rang. It was his agent calling him. Rick looked at Robbie.   
"Robert. I'm leaving the bar in your hands. I'll give Ben your pay,   
just lock up when you're done here." He pulled a set of keys out of   
his pocket and tossed them to the dampiel.  
Robbie caught the keys and watched as the idiotic blonde man ran   
from the bar. He raised a brow at the man's suspicious behavior when   
the phone rang. He picked it up. "McLeary's."  
  
"Vampy. Hey, its Ben. Look is Rick still there?"  
Robbie looked suspicious and wished he could see his friend.   
"No. He just ran out of here and tossed me the keys, why?"  
Ben chuckled slightly. "No reason. Hey is there anyone at the   
bar still?"  
Robbie nodded slightly. "Yeah, why?"  
"Coo. Look. Remember back home when we'd stay late and talk to   
the patrons?"  
"Yeah, how could I not? There were some fucked up people coming   
in that late at night."  
"Sweet. Look, I still do that. And whoever is still there at   
least one of them needs your help. Just listen to their story and help   
in any way you can."  
Robbie frowned. "Sure no problem. One thing first. Just how   
did you know there was someone still around here?"  
"Dude, I'm an empath remember. I tuned into your emotions, there   
is seriously something going on that's grating you. What happened   
Kalia show up looking for me?"  
"I wish. No, no, nothing that bad. Look I'm kinda busy, how   
about I call you later and tell you everything?"  
"Alright. Talk to ya later then." Ben closed his phone killing   
the connection.  
Robbie placed the phone down and began cleaning up behind the   
bar. The single waitress that hadn't left was taking care of the   
tables. Robbie didn't care to watch as the trashy looking woman went   
around clearing the tables.  
  
The Rolling Stones blared through the bar as Robbie continued his   
task of meticulously cleaning the bar. The last thing he wanted was to   
piss his friend off by leaving HIS bar dirty. Robbie washed and   
stacked the glasses as if they were his own precious china.  
The floors were easily taken care of as Robbie poured a clear   
liquor into the bucket up soapy water and proceeded to clean up. The   
tabletops and bar itself were out of the way before he knew it.  
At the night's end Robbie opened a bottle of Smirnoff and sat   
down next to Faith. "So you two. What'd ya wanna talk to Ben about?"  
  
Angel looked at what could possibly be a much younger version of   
himself. "Well not much, Faith just wanted a drink and I was hoping to   
talk with Ben. He gave me some good advice last month and I wanted to   
thank him for his help."  
Robbie nodded and sipped his drink. "I'm surprised. Ben hates   
vampires. I figured he'd have tried to stake you."  
Angel looked confused. "Why? He seemed like a nice guy to me."  
Robbie put down his drink. "Was he kinda quiet? Couldn't sit   
still much? Kept getting up and getting another drink?"  
Angel nodded. "Yeah. But what's that mean, most people are   
fidgety around vampires."  
Robbie shook his head. "Figures. He was trying not to kill you.   
That katana he carries isn't just for show, he knows how to use it.   
Pretty damn well too." Robbie knocked back his drink and sighed. "A   
couple a drugged out vamps busted in on his coven during the Summer   
Solstice about ten years ago. Bastards killed almost everyone, leaving   
Ben, me, the High Priestess, and her sister. Wasn't pretty.  
"Ben spent a week in the hospital before they released him.   
Bastard went psycho and ripped into those vamps." Robbie drained his   
drink and tossed the bottle to be recycled. "Almost surprised he   
didn't go slicer on you."  
Angel's complexion paled slightly. "Yeah, me too."  
  
Faith, noticing the tension in the room, cut in. "So Dampiel,   
what have you been upto since I kicked you ass?"  
Robbie smirked as he poured a snifter of bourbon. "If memory   
severs correctly, when we last met I was on top."  
Faith blushed slightly. "So what have you been upto?"  
Robbie sat down. "Not a lot. Last couple of years I spent   
trying to find Ben. Dumbass ran off to Tokyo then New York and never   
told me. I caught up with him last month and followed him out here to   
LA. We're going surfing this weekend up at Santa Rosa."  
Angle looked suspicious. "The surf competition? But that'll be   
in the middle of the day. How can you compete?"  
Rob sighed and lowered his head into his hand. He'd had to   
explain this far too often. "I'm a dampiel, not a vampire. I have   
your strength, your speed, your healing, your style of clothes, but   
what I don't have is your weaknesses. Sun, fire, crosses...none of   
them bother me." To emphasize his point Robbie pulled a chain up from   
under his shirt, on it was a simple silver cross with an amethyst where   
the two pieces met.  
Faith looked at the cross. "You still wear that thing?"  
Robbie looked at her. "Why not? Came from you didn't it?"  
Faith shrugged, "Guess it did."  
Angel watched the slight interaction between the pair. As they   
chatted he noticed something. Something familiar. These two weren't   
just acquaintances, they were, if nothing else, friends. He filed that   
thought off for later questioning.  
  
  
As the night progressed Robbie and Faith traded stories of the   
past four years. How Faith had met Buffy and the Slayerettes, how   
she'd switched sides on them only to have Buffy knock her for a loop.   
She told him of how she'd spent the last year or so in jail trying to   
reform, and how she was doing a good job of it.  
Robbie told her of how he'd been hunting his friend down through   
the major bars in the world. He told her how he took Ben's surf title   
away after he'd left the Keys.  
  
Faith looked at the dampiel. "So your buddy just bailed on you?   
Some friend."  
Robbie almost glared. "Not much different than you. Ben was   
different though. Something happened to him. I'm not sure what, but   
he just changed. I think it did him good to get away from Key West for   
a bit. He needed it." Robbie finished off his bourbon. "He's pretty   
much five-by-five now."  
Faith nodded a little groggy. She wavered on her seat a bit   
before laughing.  
Robbie looked to Angel. "Angelus. Mind if I ask you a favor?"  
"Go ahead."  
"Mind if Faith crashes with me tonight? We go way back and I'd   
like to catch up with her, if ya don't mind."  
Angel glared slightly. "She's a big girl, a Slayer even, but I   
don't really trust you."  
Robbie nodded. "Understandable. She staying with you?"  
Angel nodded, feeling he knew where this was going.  
"Mind if tag along? That way you can keep an eye on us, and   
throw me out if you don't like how things are progressing."  
'Yep, that's what I thought he was going to say,' Angel thought.   
"I guess so. But the minute you get out of control I'm throwing you   
into the daylight."  
Robbie agreed as he slid an arm around Faith, and slid her arm   
over his shoulder. "Come one hun. Let's get you to a bed."  
Faith began giggling at that comment. "Why so you can RAVAGE me   
again, sugar?" She kissed Robbie on the cheek.  
Robbie walked Faith out to Angel's car. He helped the Slayer   
into the passenger seat. He returned to the door and locked the bar   
up, before taking a seat behind Angel. "Lead on great blood god."   
Robbie pointed his hand out towards the inner city.  
Angel sighed. "I wonder who's stranger. You or Ben?"  
Robbie perked up. "No contest, I am!" HE smiled happily.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
*Chibi Vampboy does official author's jig*  
  
VB: Hey everybody. Wow. I just wanna say that this whole story   
was MY idea. Mine. I did it all myself.  
TDS: *gripes a board with a nail in it* AHEM! Vampire.  
VB:*looks behind himself* Heheheh...Dude Slayer. I'm in trouble,   
aren't I?  
TDS: *taps board in his hand* Oh yeah. This was MY story. I only   
did it cuz you begged me for a guest appearance in one of my   
fics. Just be glad that I was nice enough to hook you and Faith   
up the way I did.  
VB:*bows* Alright. Alright. I'm sorry.  
TDS:*tosses board away* Alright, that's better.  
VB:Get on with it. The fans wanna know how you came up with this.  
TDS: Alright. Well this was a story riddled with inside jokes that   
only my friends and some Parrotheads will catch. If you really   
wanna know what they are, ask. But they're not important.  
This story was also written in about the span of two days, so   
don't blame me if it doesn't make too much sense.  
CDS: We'll blame you anyway. Just behind your back. *types out a   
message on a bulletin board*  
CVB: Whatcha doin'?  
CDS: I'm typing out an anti-Dude Slayer message on this bulletin board   
I found online.  
TDS: *shocked* WHAT?! People don't like me? *tears up* Why? Why   
don't you like me? I can't take this pressure...I NEED people to   
like me, love me. I need recognition. WAHHHHAAAAAAAA...  
VB: *comforting* Its alright bro. Come on. Let's go get you a Jolt   
'n Jack combo. You need it.   
  
*The Dude Slayer and Vampboy walk off stage leaving the chibis alone*  
  
CDS:*looks around* They gone?  
CVB: *looks around* Yep. Break out the booze and hookers.  
  
*booze flows from the theater's sprinklers as hookers and stripers   
appear onstage in different stages of undress*  
  
  
TDS:*fists clench and unclench* Those two are upto something. And   
all I can do is tell people to stay tuned. Next time around   
William the Bloody will be swinging by, and Ben will be back in   
charge of the bar.  
VB:I think that's all the fans need to know man. Let's just get you   
to the J 'n J. Then you can get back to work on your Eva fics.  
TDS:You're right. Booze and caffeine is just what I need.  
Send you comments and suggestions to The Dude Slayer via   
redrum124@bigfoot.com or my website  
http://the_dude_slayer.tripod.com/Home.html  
  
Ja ne. 


	9. Christmas Special: Lestat Lives

Barstool Sessions  
Christmas Special:  
Lestat Lives  
  
  
  
  
  
Ben stood behind the bar of McLeary's Tavern in New York City.   
  
Snow had been falling since the first of December and was now   
finally making some kind of impression on the people of New York. The   
residents could see Christmas was coming, and soon.  
  
Ben sighed as he looked out the window. The bar was so close to   
empty that Ben had sent nearly everyone home. He and Sheila were   
running the place by themselves, sporadically refilling the occasional   
beer mug.  
Ben picked up a card and placed his hand on the bar. "Gin. I   
win, again. Poker?" He asked as he opened a box of gambling chips.  
Sheila looked at the cards before yawning and placing hers on the   
bar. "Alright, I'm bored." She shook her head causing her recently   
dyed blue hair to ruffle. "What else is there to do? Denis left you   
in charge, I mean you must know of SOMETHING to do."  
Ben picked up the cards and began sorting them face down. "Nope.   
I'm a southern boy. I know beaches, bars, women, and the outdoors.   
Snow and New York winters are something alien to me." Ben shuffled the   
cards a few times before dealing. "Poker, five card stud. Jacks or   
better to open."  
Sheila nodded as she picked up her cards. "Remind me again why   
we're playing cards."  
Ben placed three down and waited on Sheila. "Because Denis   
wouldn't let me hook my PS2 into the entertainment system here. And   
since my little run-in with an old friend recently I always keep a pack   
on hand."  
Sheila nodded and placed two cards on the table. "So how long do   
you think Mr. Leary wants us to keep the bar open? It doesn't seem   
like anyone's going to be here tonight." Sheila looked at her cards   
then, at Ben before placing a blue chip in the middle of a pile.  
Ben placed a blue chip on top of Sheila's and a red one. "Dunno,   
but I'm closing at ten no matter what. There's no way in hell I'm   
staying until two like usual."  
Sheila looked surprised. "You stay 'til two everyday?" Ben   
nodded. "Jesus what do your paychecks look like?"  
Ben arranged his cards once before looking at Sheila. "You do   
NOT want me answering that." He placed the cards down on the bar.   
"Two pair, kings over sixes."  
Sheila smirked. "Full house." She placed her cards down. They   
read; five, six, seven, eight, and nine of hearts.  
Ben scratched his head as he looked at the cards. "Well I'll be   
damned." Reaching into his duster Ben pulled out a pack of thin cigars   
and a red Zippo with a picture of a nail and the word "Nails" written   
in yellow on the front.  
Sheila looked at the brunette bartender. Giving him a curious   
glance she asked, "Since when do you smoke?"  
Ben took a drag off his cigar and blew the smoke out of his nose.   
"I do off and on. Started when I was sixteen. Short story is I was   
pissed off at an ex and the only thing I had to curb the depression was   
tobacco and alcohol. Of course when I was eighteen a buddy of mine   
moved me from cigarettes to cigars, and I haven't looked back since."   
Ben took another long drag off the carcinogen and exhaled through his   
clenched teeth.  
Sheila glared at her friend and coworker. "Well will you put   
that thing out. It stinks, and the last thing I want is to smell   
tobacco on you for the rest of the night."  
Ben nodded as he extinguished the cigar on the bartop and slid it   
back into his portable humidor. "Better?"  
Sheila nodded. "Much. Will you pour me a beer? I'll deal this   
time, unless you don't trust me." Sheila batted her eyelashes and   
attempted to look innocent.  
Ben stood up and walked around the bar. "No problem. I trust   
you. I know you wouldn't be cheating on me."  
Sheila tried to look shocked. "Who me?"  
Ben filled a mug with Bud Lite and looked at Sheila. "Yeah you."   
Ben picked up the mug and made his way around the bar to where he and   
Sheila were sitting. He placed the mug before Sheila and sat down in   
his seat. "Deal 'em out pretty lady."  
Sheila blushed slightly and dealt the cards. "Five dollar   
minimum." Sheila placed a red chip in the center of the bartop.  
Ben tossed a red chip out and picked up his cards. 'Crap, well   
I've got a...' Ben stopped mid-thought as he looked at Sheila who was   
just barely smirking.  
Tapping into the familiar sensation of feeling other's emotions   
Ben searched Sheila. Feeling her joy, Ben looked back to his cards   
before he placed them face down on the table. "I fold."  
Sheila looked shocked. "Why?"  
Ben betrayed no emotion. "I got nothing."  
Sheila looked skeptical as she gathered the cards again and dealt   
them out.  
  
  
The next two hours were spent gambling, serving drinks to the few   
drunks crazy enough to stumble into the bar, an improvised karaoke   
session of Ben singing old Rolling Stone's songs, and sharing stories   
with the drunks.  
  
The night trudged by slowly for Ben and Sheila. Somewhere around   
nine-thirty Ben emptied the bar out. He and Sheila spent the next half   
hour cleaning the bar, washing glasses, and making sure the bar would   
be in good condition in two days.  
  
Ben walked to the sink carrying a tub full of dirty glasses.   
"How do you like me now, now that I'm standing here." Ben sang to   
himself.  
Sheila looked over to the older bartender. A gentle smile crept   
across her features. The young woman watched as the Key West native   
danced around the kitchen. She could hear the sounds of pans and   
glasses being hit and tapped as the crazed bartender pounded out a   
Calypso beat as he worked.  
  
Ben slammed a pot against the far wall of the kitchen. "DAMNIT!"   
he muttered. "Where the hell is that bottle of hand soap?" Ben threw   
a few more pots and pans as he continued his search for hand soap.  
  
Sheila grabbed a rag and began cleaning the tables and bar. She   
knew that they were all reasonably clean due to no one using them, and   
Ben's anal-retentive cleaning methods. Sheila giggled to herself, she   
always assumed that Ben loved this bar and anyone he worked in more   
than he did any woman, and probably always would.  
Sheila's train of thought was derailed by a gust of frozen wind   
striking her naked arms. Turning on one heel she glared at the person   
in the doorway. "Close the damn door, you're letting out all the   
fucking heat."  
  
The gait figure standing in the doorway slammed the door and   
stepped into the tavern. Removing the long black trenchcoat revealed a   
blonde haired man dressed in a red velvet coat and black trousers.   
Silently the man moved to an empty barstool.  
  
Ben came out wiping his hands on a towel. "Shel, you can head on   
home. I shouldn't have any trouble cleaning up now." Ben turned   
around and noticed the man at the bar. His expression changed from one   
of relief to one of surprise and moved almost to fear.  
Shaking himself free of the man's gaze he looked to Sheila. "Go   
ahead Shel. I can cover this guy."  
Sheila gave her friend a wary look. Quickly she glanced to the   
man at the bar. Silently she walked into the back room and grabbed her   
winter overcoat.  
Ben glared at the man at the bar.  
Sheila gave Ben a quick peck on the cheek. "Merry Christmas   
Benny." She slipped on her coat and made her way out the door.  
  
  
Ben placed his towel down and glared at the blonde man at the   
bar. "Misiour de Lioncourt."  
"Misiour Reilly. How good to see you again."  
"Wish I could say the say. I haven't seen you since you and your   
cronies left Miami for New Orleans."  
The blonde man smiled. "Oui. It has been a while."  
"So Lestat what brings you here? Last time I checked you were   
comatose and sleeping in a church."  
Lestat smirked. "Oui. I was. I'm surprised that you didn't try   
and find me after my last book was published."  
Ben glared. "Believe me I tried. I tried for almost two months.   
Eventually I figured that you'd crawl out of your hole on your own."  
Lestat smiled. "As you see that I did. And I'm quite stronger   
because of it. I assume you've read my new book?"  
Ben nodded. "Of course. Your books are pretty much the guiding   
lights for any person hunting vampires."  
Lestat frowned. "Do tell. How man of my kind have you killed?"  
Ben turned his back and began looking at the wall bottles.   
"Depends. Before or after Akash killed off most of your kind?"  
"Before."  
Ben picked up a bottle of tequila. He poured a shot for himself   
and replaced the bottle. "Ten." He picked up the shot and swirled it   
in the glass for a moment.  
"Ten. My that is quite a number of vampires." Lestat smirked.   
"And after?"  
Ben slammed back the strong alcohol. "Four. But considering   
that it is no longer my only passion in life, I believe that I'm doing   
well for myself."  
Lestat smiled. "That you are."  
Ben glared. "So what are you doing in MY bar?"  
"What am I not allowed to step into a tavern to relieve my self   
from the cold?"  
Ben placed the empty glass into the sink to soak. "Lestat. Give   
me one good reason as to why I shouldn't light a fire, cut you up, and   
throw you piece by piece into it."  
Lestat smirked. "How's this?"  
  
In a single fluid motion Lestat was across the bar, shoving Ben   
against the back wall. Fear and recognition could be seen in Ben's   
eyes as he looked at Lestat.  
Lestat grinned devilishly as he tilted Ben's neck to the side.   
Ben struggled futilely as Lestat bit into the side of his neck.  
Ben rammed his knee into Lestat's groin with no luck. As a last   
ditch attempt Ben pulled his head back as far as he could and slammed   
his forehead into Lestat's face.  
Lestat smiled as he pulled back from the attack. "Why Benjamin.   
Are you attempting to hurt me?"  
Ben held his neck. "I'll do more than attempt." Ben ran for the   
back room where he'd left his sword. Throwing himself to the floor Ben   
rolled through the door. Sitting against the wall Ben grabbed his   
katana from under his duster. "I'm a dead man, I know it."  
Ben looked at the ceiling. "Goddess protect me. If not, I'm   
screwed." Steadying the sword against his lower arm Ben stood up.   
Shakily he walked to the door leading into the front of the bar.  
  
Lestat threw the door open. "My dear Benjamin, I hunger. Do not   
fight me. You will lose."  
Ben jumped at Lestat swinging the sword down in a wide arc,   
hoping to take Lestat's head off.  
Lestat held his hand up and caught the blade centimeters from his   
neck. "Tsk, tsk Misiour Reilly. I expected more from one that has   
killed fourteen of my brethren."  
Ben swirled the sword around and jammed the blade into Lestat's   
left side.  
Lestat smirked as he threw Ben's neck to the side and sank his   
fangs in the weak flesh. As the sour alcohol ridden liquid worked its   
way into Lestat's mouth the vampire smiled.  
  
Ben could feel consciousness slipping from his mind as his life   
blood was drained from his body. Slowly, so slowly he could feel   
himself falling further and further into sleep.  
  
  
  
  
"AHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!"  
  
Ben jerked himself straight up on his couch. Quickly he searched   
the room for something familiar. Seeing that he was in his apartment   
in Los Angeles Ben sighed.  
Looking down at his chest Ben could see his open copy of   
"Merrick" by Anne Rice. Ben looked around the room before falling back   
onto the couch. "That's it. No more Bloody Marys and Anne Rice before   
bed." Ben pushed the glass of Bloody Mary further down the table.  
Moments later Ben was soon asleep.  
  
  
  
Louis looked in on the young brunette bartender. He turned to   
the blonde haired man standing next to him. "Lestat. Are you sure you   
wanted to leave him alive, with all that he knows?"  
Lestat smiled. "No one will believe him. He's just a crazy   
island bartender."  
  
  
Across the street Robbie sat in a hotel room drinking brandy and   
watching "Chasing Amy". Had he looked out his window he would have   
seen something to chill even his half-dead bones.  
  
  
  
  
*Chibi Dude Slayer does official author's jig*  
  
TDS: *smiles* WAHAHHA!!! How do you like my Christmas Special?  
This was going to be an actual story, but when I thought about the   
story I figured that it would make a great side story.  
CDS: You're too lazy to write an actual story.  
TDS: Shut up. I've been busy.  
CDS: You've been sitting on your ass.  
TDS: Don't make me hurt you.  
CDS: *snickers* Yeah right. Didn't you just say the other day   
you couldn't afford to hurt me anymore?  
TDS: *grins evilly* Heheh... doesn't mean I can't use the magick   
keyboard to hurt you. Then I don't need to take you to the vet.  
CDS: Shit. Alright. *walks away*  
TDS: Anyway, no real rant today. Nothing much to say. So, mail   
me and enjoy my site.  
  
http://the_dude_slayer.tripod.com/Home.html  
redrum124@bigfoot.com  
  
Ja ne. 


	10. Shake, Rattle, and Roll

Barstool Sessions  
Shake, Rattle, and Roll  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Ben sat in his apartment, the phone sat against his ear, as it   
had been for the last two hours.  
"Come on Denis. Let me come back to New York. I can't take   
working with Rick much longer. He's driving what little sanity I have   
away." Ben took a deep breath and sighed. "Denis, please. I told you   
when you gave me this job that I was NOT cut out for the LA life."  
  
"And I told you, Ben, that I NEED you out there. No one else can   
run that place like you can. I know you and Rick don't get along well.   
He's called me five times this month begging me to take you back."  
  
"Then why won't you?" Ben almost whined.  
  
"Because you're more useful to me over there right now."  
  
Ben ran a hand through his long auburn hair, which was not in its   
characteristic ponytail. He knew it was time to play one of his two   
trump cards. "Denis. Look, take me back. I'll even go back to my old   
salary. No stocks, no ownership, no increased payment. Please."  
  
Denis was quiet for a few minutes as he thought it over. "Ben."  
  
Ben smiled happily. "Hai?"  
  
"Give me a few days to think it over."  
  
Ben's smile gave way to a deep frown. "Alright. I'll call you   
before New Year's." Ben disconnected the call as he placed the phone   
back on the charger.  
With a deep sigh Ben fell back and lay down on his couch. He   
stared up at the ceiling and placed his hands behind his head. In a   
small and almost insecure voice Ben spoke. "An unfamiliar ceiling."  
  
  
  
  
  
Ben yawned as he leaned against the bar. He'd gotten stuck   
running the lunch shift. Ben stifled another yawn as he looked at the   
mostly empty room. Ben hadn't run a lunch shift since he was eighteen.   
  
The door opened sending a sharp beam of sunlight into the dank   
room. Ben glared and dropped his sunglasses into place. "Close the   
DOOR!!!" The two men standing in the doorway steeped into the room.   
They gave the tavern a silent look as if searching for something before   
making their way to the bar.  
Ben glared at the two men sitting at his bar. He didn't like the   
sight of them. Both were clean cut, wearing fine tailored suits, with   
stylish haircuts, and slight bulges revealing pistols under the   
jackets. Ben smirked to himself as he reached under the bar and   
gripped the handle of his katana.  
"What can I do for you boys?" Ben sugarcoated his voice as best   
possible. He knew gangsters and Mob when he saw them. Growing up on   
an island that had once been a pirate haven did that for someone.  
  
The taller of the two men, an Asian in a black suit, smiled. "We   
need to see Rick." His English was nearly perfect, his Chinese accent   
giving it a slight singsong edge.  
Ben actually glared. "That fuck off ain't here." Ben's thick   
Southern accent was in full swing. "Don' know when 'e'll be 'ere, an   
ah don' care. Now if ya'll want ah'll get yaz a drink."  
The shorter man, a black man in a white suit, smiled. "Long   
Island would ya?" He spoke like a LA native, fast and to the point.  
Ben nodded and looked at the Asian. "A mai tai, please. And I   
would greatly wish to speak to Mr. Rick."  
Ben turned his back and began on the drinks. "An ah told ya. 'e   
ain't 'ere. An ah ain't got no idea when 'e'll get here either." Ben   
turned and dropped the quickly maid mai tai on the bar. "Four dollars,   
each a ya."  
The Asian withdrew a fifty from his wallet. "Would this help jog   
your memory as to where I may find Mr. Rick?"  
Ben grabbed the bill and glared. "I don't take bribes." His   
anger was under control and he'd regained his more articulate speech   
patterns. "Now, if you want I can give him a message."  
The Asian nodded to his partner. The black man stood and made   
his way behind the bar. In a fluid motion he slid his arm behind a row   
of glasses and knocked them to the ground.  
"Oops," the man shrugged and smirked. "Sorry 'bout that.   
Accident you know, they happen."  
Ben looked at the broken glass. He looked to the Asian man who   
was extinguishing a cigarette butt on the bar top. A rage of hatred   
began welling up in the young island bartender.  
  
The Rolling Stones "Street Fighting Man" began playing on the   
jukebox. It seemed to blend into the background.  
  
In a single motion Ben had removed his sword and swung it out at   
the black man. The other man had no time to move, and found his left   
hand falling to the floor of the bar. In fluid reaction, Ben pivoted   
on his left foot and held the katana at the Asian's throat. "Get out   
of MY bar! NOW!"  
To emphasize his point Ben jerked the impossibly sharp blade,   
cutting the man's silk tie in half, also cutting a line across his   
shirt and suit jacket. "GO!" Ben's thick voice was reverberating with   
hatred and anger.  
The Asian stood slowly, taking his time to measure up the   
bartender. Without a second thought he turned and walked out of the   
bar, not worrying about his partner. At the door the Asian turned and   
looked at Ben. "This is not over, not by far."  
Ben growled. "You watch too many movies. Get your partner and   
LEAVE!!" Ben stepped up and kicked the black man in his chest. "Stop   
bleeding on my floor."  
The black man looked up at Ben, even with the sunglasses down the   
man could see the seething hatred burning in Ben's ice blue eyes.   
Without care he turned, holding his hand close, and ran for the door.  
  
Ben picked up a clean towel and wiped the blood and tiny bits of   
bone fragments off the blade. Ben sheathed the sword and looked at the   
severed hand on the floor. Using the bar towel, Ben bent down and   
picked the hand up. Carelessly he tossed it in a trashcan, still   
wrapped in the towel.  
  
Ben looked around the bar. "Fucking gangs. Ever since the   
fucking Godfather everyone thinks they're the fucking mob." Ben's gaze   
stopped on the broken bottles of tequila, whiskey, scotch, and various   
other drinks. Ben dragged in a strong breath and let out a string of   
curses ranging from Spanish, Japanese, English, Celtic, and Cantonese.  
  
Rick opened the door to the bar as the triad of curses began. He   
was stopped in his tracks as he listened to the young man behind the   
bar expunge more profanity than he knew existed. Rick's jaw dropped to   
the floor as he caught a few of the Spanish and English phrases.  
  
A man in his mid-forties sat at the bar counting on his fingers.   
After a few minutes he looked at the young man behind the bar that had   
just spent an untold time cursing. With a smile he looked to the man   
to his left. "Four hundred twenty-four. You lose."  
The Latino man next to him reached into his pocket and withdrew a   
wad of bills. "Damn, I didn't know there were that many curses."  
The old man smiled, revealing a few missing teeth. "Yep. And he   
didn't even repeat any. Kid's articulate. I counted five languages."  
The Latino handed the old man the money and sighed. "Fuck. What   
is he some kind of fucking ninja linguist?"  
Ben looked to the two men seated at the bar. "Nope. I'm just a   
bartender with a love of swords." He smirked and began looking for the   
mop and broom.  
  
Rick stood in the doorway as he watched Ben cleaning up the blood   
and alcohol. He was still slightly in shock from hearing his bartender   
yelling and cursing in more languages than he knew.  
  
Ben swept up some of the broken glass and bone fragments. "Sorry   
sons of diseased whores. Who do they think they are coming into MY bar   
demanding shit like that!" Ben swept the glass into a wastebasket. "I   
hate LA. I hate California. I hate mobsters. Fucking goat humping   
dog lovers."  
Ben stood up and wiped his hands off. Seeing Rick standing in   
the corner in shock he shrugged and picked up the mai tia. He emptied   
the glass and put it in the back to be washed. Ben came back with a   
case of bottles and began replacing the broken ones.  
  
  
Rick watched as Ben had switched from an hatred driven, near   
semi-crazed, raving lunatic into a calm almost happy bartender. If he   
didn't know any better he'd think that Ben was high on something, but   
he could see a tinge of anger every time he looked at the back wall.   
Denis would have never hired Ben nor kept him on for this length of   
time if he was an addict to anything more than tobacco, alcohol, and   
caffeine.   
Though he could tell the young man also had an obsession with   
leather, but wouldn't exactly call it an addiction, no matter if he did   
value it over human life at times.  
Rick regained use of his voice and bellowed. "BEN!"  
  
Ben looked over his shoulder at Rick. "Be right with you Rick."   
He tapped off a mug and placed it before the old man. "ya fuckin' Cali   
actor wanna be shit hole" he mumbled to himself. The old man chuckled   
as he looked at Ben. Ben smirked at the man knowing he'd been heard.  
  
  
Rick sat at the bar with Ben standing before him. Ben had   
rehashed the tale of the two mobsters. Just to play with Rick Ben even   
went into detail of their clothes, mixing the drinks, and even the   
man's screams after he'd lost his hand. Antagonizing the older man Ben   
even began to recite the many different curses he'd spoken and   
explaining the language and literal translations behind them.  
Rick held up his hand after the thirty-fifth curse. "I get it   
Ben, you were pissed. You do understand the man can press you for   
aggravated assault and battery?"  
Ben shrugged. "The cops can bust him for destroying private   
property, attempted extortion, and carrying an unlicensed handgun."  
Rick looked at Ben. "What do you mean, from what you say he   
never pulled a gun."  
"Nope, he didn't. But he's got one. Biggin' too. Had to be at   
least a .233 compact. Anything firing bigger than a .50 caliber is an   
illegal weapon, unless its buckshot." Ben lifted his bottle of   
Geniuses and took a long drink. "Anyway guys like that don't register   
their handguns."  
Rick slammed his fist on the bar. "That's not the point. He can   
sue you and us. You'll be sitting in a cell before the week's out."  
Ben shrugged and took another drink. "Won't be a first. Believe   
me Rick, I've done worse with my sword than cut a fucking mobster   
wannabe's hand off."  
Rick glared at the younger man. "Dammit Ben! What are you an   
idiot. Do you know how this is going to make me look?!"  
"Fuck you Rick. I don't give a damn about your image. Mr.   
Leary, now I might worry about him and how this reflects on the bar.   
But you Rick, you can suck off a horse for all I care. You're too   
wrapped up in how others see you than in running this bar! Maybe if   
you hadn't been off fucking that slut you call an agent you might have   
been here and prevented this!"  
Rick jumped to his feet. "Jenna is NOT a slut!! You're out of   
here. Go home! I don't want to see you until you can control   
yourself! GET!" Rick pointed at the door.  
Not being one to argue Ben shrugged and drained his beer.   
Turning on his heel the island boy walked to the back room and   
retrieved his coat. Ben stopped by the bar and retrieved his sword,   
strapping it upside down on his back and covered it with his duster.  
Ben waved to the old man at the bar and walked into the glaring   
sunlight.  
  
  
  
  
  
A few days passed before Ben returned to the bar. He used the   
days off to call Denis and Sheila to tell them his side of the story.   
Denis informed Ben that he was not coming back to New York unless he   
learned anger management or the bar burned to the ground.  
  
Ben looked at the clock on his TV and sighed. He was due at the   
bar in an hour and was not looking forward to it. There had been   
little tremors all day and Ben was nervous. Being an island child   
earthquakes were a new thing, but his neighbors didn't even seem to   
notice.  
Ben grabbed his duster and slid it on over his navy blue satin   
shirt and katana. Sliding his mirrored sunglasses on Ben walked out   
the door and headed towards McLeary's.  
  
  
  
Rick sat at one of the tables "discussing" his "acting career"   
with a young blonde woman in a tight red spandex dress. Rick's eyes   
could not move from her cleavage, which seemed ready to fall out of the   
dress. So he missed seeing Ben enter the tavern.  
  
  
Ben walked in and closed the door behind himself. Seeing Rick   
off in a corner Ben smirked as he removed his coat and sword. He hung   
the coat in the back and placed the sword under the bar next to the   
baseball bat and twelve gauge shotgun mandatory in every McLeary's   
Tavern the world over.  
Ben took up his spot behind the bar and smiled at the old man.   
"Hey Josè. Usual?"  
The old man smiled. "You're good Ben."  
"Not really. You've ordered the same thing everyday since I've   
come here." Ben grabbed a mug and began filling it with Samuel Adams   
beer. "So Josè, those guys from the other day. Have you seen 'em?"  
Josè shook his head. "Sorry Ben. Not since you played hockey   
with that guy's hand."  
Ben grinned and handed over the mug. "It wasn't hockey...more of   
tennis. Seeing as I used a backhand technique."  
Josè grinned. "You're crazy man." He took a tentative sip of   
the frothy liquid and smiled. "Much better. Whoever was working here   
while you were gone somehow made this stuff bitter. I have no idea   
how, but that swill was the worst I've ever had."  
Ben nodded. "I'm not a big fan of Sam Adams, more a Guinness   
lover myself."  
Josè nodded and sipped his drink.  
  
At that moment the ground began to shake gently. Ben freaked and   
grabbed the bar. Josè held onto his glass and smiled at the young   
tanned man standing before him. The quake was over as quickly as it   
had begun.  
Josè looked at Ben. "First quake?"  
Ben nodded. "Y-y-yeah..."  
Josè chuckled. "I can tell. You're not a West Coast person are   
you?" He sipped his beer and looked the younger man over.  
Ben shook his head, causing his thick ponytail to land on his   
left shoulder. "Fuck no. I hate it out here. Smog in every breath   
you take, import cars everywhere you look, useless people on every   
other street, and don't get me started on the actors." Ben growled   
slightly, actually baring his teeth.  
Josè leaned back a bit. "Shit, you really DON'T like California,   
kid." Josè leaned in close. "So why're you here if you don't like   
this coast?"  
Ben sighed. "You remember the guy that got gunned down a few   
months back who used to run the place?"  
Josè looked up at the ceiling for a moment before looking back at   
Ben. "You mean Marco?"  
Ben nodded as he picked up a bottle of vodka and a shaker. "Yep.   
Well when he died Mr. Leary, the owner, called me in on my day off. He   
told me I'm moving to LA that weekend, and the rest is history." Ben   
poured out the vodka and grapefruit juice mix and slid it down the bar.  
Josè shook his head. "I'm sorry man."  
Ben shrugged. "Don't be. I'll survive."  
  
The slightest signs of a tremor could be felt in the floor for a   
few minutes. Then almost like a tsunami hitting Japan, a quick and   
forceful tremor shook the bar to its foundation for a minute, causing a   
few patrons to look around before returning to their conversations.  
Ben gripped the bar so tight his knuckles began to turn white in   
his deeply suntanned skin. A few moments after the tremor subsided did   
the bartender let go of the bar and return to work.  
  
  
  
The night droned on with little or no problems. A few little   
shakes came and went, eventually Ben adjusted to them. The customer   
ratio was down a tad, but the bar was still reasonably full. Somewhere   
around midnight an African-America man in a stylish gray Armani suit   
with black driving gloves entered the bar.  
The man strode upto the bar and asked to use the restroom. Ben   
stood with his back to the man as he looked over a chart of drinks   
looking for something. He pointed upstairs, "Go up and to the right.   
Can't miss it." The man thanked him and was off.  
  
The man stood in the stall and shook himself. For some reason he   
felt something was wrong and looked down. In his left, and only hand,   
he held his penis and testicles. With a horrified scream the man   
dropped his sexual organs on the floor and backed out of the stall.  
  
Ben looked at Josè. "Did you hear something?"  
Josè shook his head. "Nope."  
Ben shrugged and returned to making a Cherry Spritzer with a Gin   
and Vodka twist.  
  
  
The man looked down at his body in horror. He almost screamed   
again, but something struck him. The man behind the bar was the same   
man that had cut his hand off less than a week ago. He also remembered   
his partner's reaction as they left the bar that day.  
The Chinese man had been very frightened by something the   
bartender had said. Especially when he told his partner that the   
bartender had cursed them. The black man had laughed it off saying   
he'd been cussed at before, his joke received a back handed slap from   
his Chinese partner and an explanation that the bartender hadn't been   
cussing at them, he had CURSED them.  
The man zipped his pant and adjusted his clothes as he removed   
the silenced Glock 9mm from under his suit jacket. With a sadistic   
grin he took aim at the auburn haired bartender behind the bar.  
  
  
Ben looked at the wall behind the bar in a vain attempt to find a   
bottle of brandy. "AH HAH! There you are." Ben knelt down and picked   
up a well-aged bottle from the bottom rack. As he knelt down he missed   
the bullet that had been aimed at him, causing the projectile to hit   
the back wall.  
Ben brushed his knees off as he placed the bottle on the bar and   
began looking for a proper sized snifter. Ben sidestepped and nearly   
fell over as he reached for the glass, another bullet whizzed by him   
imbedding in the floor. Ben pulled the glass down and filled it   
halfway before handing it to a man in a three-piece suit.  
  
The eunuch at the top of the stairs grumbled as he took aim once   
more at the young bartender. "This is for giving my partner boils."   
He took aim and pulled the trigger hitting Josè's mug shattering it   
across the bar.  
  
Ben looked at the shattered glass and ducked behind the bar.   
"FUCK!!!" Ben wrapped his hands around his head as he leaned against   
the bar. "Why me?!" A pair of bullet holes appeared inches from Ben's   
crotch.  
The island bartender's eyes flew open then slowly narrowed into a   
glare. "Sheist! What'd I do ta this guy?" Ben began patting down his   
sides and chest as he looked for something he could use as a weapon.   
"Figures I give up my Eagles for an honorable weapon, and I'm too far   
out of range to use my sword."  
  
Voices could be heard screaming and yelling in the background as   
the bar began to empty out. Chairs tipped over, glasses and bottles   
where thrown aside shattering on the floor, tables were overturned, and   
people streamed out the door.  
Mentally Ben began counting up how much this little escapade   
would cost to replace the broken glasses and tables, and how much time   
Ben would need to clean the bar. Ben slammed his fist on the floor as   
the numbers ran into multiple paychecks, with overtime.  
  
"You fucking shit fucker. How could you do this to me?!" The   
voice yelled from the floor above.  
Ben yelled back. "Do what?!"  
"My goddamn balls fell off!"  
Ben's brows raised in curiosity. "Huh?" His eyes flew open in   
realization, just before he began laughing his ass off. "Holy SHIT!   
You mean the fucking spell actually worked?!" Ben howled with   
laughter.  
Two more bullet holes appeared in the floor killing Ben's   
laughter. "You fucking psycho! I'm gonna kill you!"  
Ben reached under the bar and removed his katana. "Come and get   
me asswipe. I need a good fight."  
  
  
  
A fight would have occurred at this exact moment but the author   
deemed that the dramatic tension has built up enough. So instead this   
has happened.  
  
  
Earth: A thing of life, a thing of poetry, a source of creation,   
a living entity that is constantly in flux. Earthquake: a source of   
destruction, devastation, and death, the movement of Terra causing   
tremors.  
  
The ground rippled as if life had been given to it, and it was   
pissed. Waves of gravel, asphalt, and cement began shifting. The   
walls of the tavern swayed with the movement of the ground.  
Ben crawled across the dirty ground clutching his sword as he   
tried to make his way to the back room. Bullets whizzed by ripping   
holes in the hardwood floor. After a few feet Ben jumped up and made a   
run for the back room.  
  
Ben grabbed his duster and slid it on. He leaned against the   
wall breathing rapidly. The ground under his feet rippled and moved as   
if it had a mind of its own. "Dammit! The only thing that should   
ripple underneath me is a fucking WAVE, not the DAMN ground!!" Ben   
stood in the threshold of the storeroom, using and enjoying the minimal   
protection it provided.  
That was until the front half of the tavern began sinking into   
the ground. Rafters, studs, ceiling, walls, racks...everything began   
breaking and cracking as the quake continued to rip up the ground and   
throw people, cars, and buildings into its shifting abyss.  
  
Seeing a break in the building Ben made a desperate sprint for   
the outside. Seconds clicked by like hours as the bartender made his   
run. As soon as it started it was over and Ben was outside.  
  
Ben stood up from his roll and looked at the building where he'd   
just slaved away four months of his life. McLeary's Tavern slowly   
began sinking into the ground as the quake continued. Ben slapped his   
forehead as he watched the back of the building sinking. "DAMN! I   
left the gas..."  
Ben's monologue was cut short by the fiery explosion enveloped   
the building. Ben ducked down and covered his head with his duster as   
the bar exploded causing the different liquors to catch fire. Ben   
stood and uncovered his head as he heard sirens going off in the   
distance.  
"...on." Ben fell to the uneven ground and lay back waiting on   
the police and fire department. Right now all Ben cared about was a   
nap. A nice long nap on a secluded beach in Key West. "Yeah...sleep   
in the sun. Watch the gang surf and tan. Yeah, just like the old   
days." Ben rolled over on his side and dozed off.  
  
  
  
A man in a black duster and red silk shirt walked up. His   
platinum blonde hair shown in the dim light provided by the police.   
"Bloody hell, guess its back to Sunnydale for me." The man's British   
accent was thick and easily noticeable, along with his hair he looked   
like a subdued Billy Idol.  
  
  
  
  
  
Epilogue  
  
  
  
Ben woke up to persistent poking of something on his chest.   
Groggily Ben pushed the offending object away. "Five more..." lazily   
he rolled over and tried to return to sleep.  
  
Robbie looked down at his baking friend and sighed. "Aw what the   
hell, why not." He lifted the phone to his ear. "Mr. Leary? Ben's   
busy at the moment, can I have him call you back? Alright. Your home   
number? He's got it? Okay, sure thing, bye." Robbie closed the phone   
and lay back on the white sand and slowly returned to his nap. "Its   
good havin' ya home bro."  
Ben smiled slightly and mumbled in his sleep. "Home."  
  
  
  
  
  
*Chibi Dude Slayer pulls off sunglasses and waves*  
  
CDS: *puts glasses back on and takes a sip from an umbrella drink   
on a nearby table* Yo! The boss wanted me to say that The Barstool   
Sessions is over. That's right this was the last fic in the Barstool   
Sessions, but that doesn't mean Ben's gone back to Key West to retire.  
  
*Chibi Vampboy jumps on camera*  
  
CVB: Hell no! Stay tuned for Barstool Sessions: Season 2:   
Welcome to Jersey. A compilation of stories dealing with characters   
from Kevin Smith's infamous "Jersey Trilogy"; Clerks, Mallrats, and   
Chasing Amy.  
  
*Chibi Dude Slayer grabs camera*  
  
CDS: Stay tuned. Also, keep a look out. Another of The Dude   
Slayer's friends will be making an appearance. He's promised her the   
chance to help out one of the characters. Ain't he a nice guy?  
CVB: If you say so. I say he wants to jump her bones.  
  
*The Dude Slayer walks onstage his duster flapping at all times*  
*TDS grabs CVB and begins shoving stakes into his hands and feet,   
attaching him to the floor*  
  
TDS: How many times must we go through this. Meatspace and   
Cyberspace never meet, correct?  
CVB: *nods* Yeah...  
TDS: *lights a match and drops it on CVB* Then why did you say   
something stupid?  
CVB: *screams in pain* Cuz you DO!  
  
*Vampboy walks onstage, his duster does not flap*  
  
VB: What's up? Uh, Chibi Vamp, why are you on the ground?  
CVB: Dude Slayer got pissed cuz I said something about Meatspace.  
VB: Oh you mean about him wanting to jump...  
  
*TDS duct tapes Vampboy's mouth*  
  
TDS: Try ME! *looks at camera* Stay tuned. Next time Ben's   
going to take a few days off back home in Key West before returning to   
New York. Oh, and Sheila WILL return. Final note, I don't own Spike.   
Joss Whedon does.  
  
So finally, visit my site or drop me a line.  
  
http://the_dude_slayer.tripod.com/Home.html  
  
redrum124@bigfoot.com  
  
  
Ja ne.  
  
  
*a phone rings*  
*Ben picks up*  
Ben: Moshi, moshi?  
Denis: Ben, its Denis. I was just wondering something.  
Ben: What's that?  
Denis: Did you burn my bar down? 


End file.
